Slow Hands
by TurtlePower98
Summary: Kara Moore (OC) finds herself enamoured by Isaac Lahey, the quiet, shy boy who happens to be mysteriously perfect. (Pre-bite, season 1)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey there, first pic, probably one shot. If you like it, give it a review. If you'd like this to be more than just a one shot, let me know and I'll see what I can do about writing a few more chapters._

 _This is my first time writing in first person, and although I've edited it, there may be a few glitches. Side note, this is set circa season 1, before Isaac is bitten._

 _Enjoy._

* * *

I remembered the first time I saw him, it was in English, our first year at Beacon Hills High. We worked on a passage analysis on a Jane Austen novel together, one he had neglected to read. I remember detailing the passage, and later, the whole novel to him, and he smiled awkwardly. This year, we share a few classes: English, Chemistry, Gym, and History. We don't talk often, I think he's just as shy as me, but every single class, he always sits next to me when he's given the opportunity. Well, almost.

To say I like him, would be an understatement. If he didn't notice the way I stare at his strong cheekbones, defined jawline, his deep blue eyes, long blond lashes, his perfect nose, and kissable lips, his luscious curls, his gorgeous smile, his honey-like voice - oh my god, is he asking me something?

"Kara?" I blinked stupidly, mouth gaping in confusion.

"What?" He blinked back. "I mean, sorry, I zoned out."

"Yeah," he chuckled, his red lips separating to show off his immaculate teeth, "chemistry gets like that. Do you get question five?"

"Oh, um, I have…not even looked at it," I shook my head and bit my lip nervously. The question wasn't exactly easy but I was sure I could work it out. "Here, you've got to-"

The bell rang, signalling the end of class, "saved by the bell, I guess." He mumbled quietly.

The teacher assigned us the rest of the page's questions for homework by the next day, but I barely heard over the sound of my heart thumping in my ears as I prepared myself for the dreaded question. "How about you come over after school and we can study together?"

My knees knocked, my bottom lip trembled despite my best efforts to conceal that by biting down on it hard, and his blue eyes stared deep into mine, like he wasn't expecting the question.

"You don't have to,"

"I'd love to, sorry, I just, I can't stay for long, I have work tonight." He smiled awkwardly, speaking softly as we gathered our things and headed towards our lockers. I noticed his sleeve lifting at his wrist, a deep, purplish-blue bruise hinting under the hem, but I didn't say anything. He often had bruises and sometimes cuts, usually on his arms from what I could tell, but there was an occasional bruise on his face. He always told me it was from lacrosse, even though he didn't play often, he and his dad practice a lot. I supposed that there would be heaps more on his body that he kept covered up, but when I think about what's under Isaac Lahey's clothes, well, let's not get into that mess…

After school, I drove home, waiting for Isaac to return on his bike. Since he needed to get to work later that evening, there was no need for me to drive him. I fixed him a sandwich while I waited, since I'm always hungry after school, I figured he must be. Turns out, he was.

"Thank you, you didn't have to," he mumbled with an awkward grin on his face before nearly stuffing his face with food.

"It's like you haven't eaten all day," I spoke, watching him while I ate my own.

"I haven't," he said between bites, "I, uh, forgot to bring food today."

"And breakfast?" He paused before answering.

"I don't eat breakfast."

"Tut, tut, you know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Did I sound casual enough? Isaac hesitated again, looking down and nodding, talking softly.

"Yeah, yeah, I, um, I know," I was worried if I'd crossed a line. Isaac wasn't particularly vocal so often, when I talked to him, which was in fact not very often at all, I read his body language. He always kept his shoulders forward, his body curled, unless he was relaxed. He was conserved, but sometimes, he reminded me of a scared puppy with his tail between his legs. He kept his head down, unless directly spoken to, his eyes were sharp though, as though he was waiting for something to happen. And sometimes, he fiddled, most particularly with his fingers, biting his nails. During chemistry quizzes, he did that a lot, he gets pretty nervous around then.

Right now, his shoulders were forward, and his head was down.

"I'm sorry if I…said something wrong," I all but whispered.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you for the food." He still didn't look me directly in the eyes, and fiddled with his fingers so I was sure that something was off. I hadn't meant to, but I guess, these things happen eventually… "Why don't we go upstairs?"

"What?" He wanted to go upstairs? With me?

"Uh, yeah, so we can study, that's still where you study, right?"

"Oh, of course, yes, that is where I study, yes, that's right." Could I be anymore awkward? It had been a long time since he had been to my house, let alone my room, but was that really an excuse? Yes, actually, it was. A perfect one. Isaac was in my house, and is walking up to my room behind me, and is being really cute and precious and oh god I wish I could kiss him right now.

We actually got quite a bit of work done. Even when the handsome boy sat next to me on the bed, sometimes nudging my shoulder with his, I managed to gather my wits and help him with the chemistry homework. For the most part, he seemed to understand the gist, but struggled to retain everything he was taught. Chemistry was…not his forte. Not that it's mine, but I've always been pretty good academically, mostly because I just remember well.

"Your room is different," Isaac's smooth, soft voice rung as he eyed off my room like a curious puppy, preparing to sniff every inch of the room to dedicate it memory, "in a good way, I mean."

He gulped, wary if he stepped out of line. "I didn't realise there was a bad way, but yeah, I painted it, and I got a bigger bed."

"For all the people you bring over," he mumbled almost so quietly I didn't catch it. I laughed, cheeks flushing.

"Yeah, no, I don't have people in my room, I mean, except my mom when she's cleaning, I mean, not to say I don't ever have people here, because like, I do, but not in that way, not on my bed, or anything, oh, God, not like that, I need to shut up, why is my mouth still moving, please stop…"

"You're so cute," Isaac chuckled, interrupting my stupid blabbering, letting me focus on panic instead.

"You…think I'm cute?" His eyes went wide, mouth dropping open as he tried to think of something to say.

"Well, yeah, I-I don't mean in a, um, in an inappropriate way, just you know, friend cute." He swallowed, and I felt my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. All I could hear was 'friend'.

"I'm sorry, I should go, I have that thing,"

"Work?"

"Yeah, work," he grabbed his things together in haste, "my dad will be upset if I'm late. Thanks for all your help, I might do better in chemistry this year than just failing."

He laughed, though it was empty, as if he was remembering that failing grade. I supposed he was pretty devastated to be failing something, there's always so much pressure in high school to be amazing at everything, especially academics. A lot of parents pushed their kids to be the absolute best, usually with the best intentions.

"Yeah, that's fine, maybe we can get together sometime again, I'd be happy to help you," he nodded in response, a lopsided smile plastered on his cheeks.

"That'd be great," we walked back down to the front door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

That night, I couldn't help but cuddle my pillow like a giddy child, thinking non-stop about our interactions today, the way he breathed when he didn't understand something, the way his eyes lit up when he did, his shoulder brushing mine, the smell of his aftershave when I got a little closer, the way we would've kissed if I just had the guts to tell him how I feel, and let's not forget, how he thinks of me as a friend…

* * *

We continued the same routine fairly regularly, three times a week over the next few weeks around his lacrosse practices, and he started improving on our pop quizzes Mr. Harris liked to give out. We started being more comfortable around each other, to the point where, after a gruelling twenty minutes of trying to work something out together, we might even hug. We started eating lunch together - probably because neither of us really had any real friends - and I started visiting his lacrosse practices and games. We never studied at his house, but it didn't matter, my parents were never home as it was so it made it a little easier to study, and according to Isaac, he preferred studying at my place than his. As for me, I didn't mind as long as I could shamelessly stare at his cute butt when he walked in front of me.

Some days we just didn't study, at least on Fridays. We just hung out and watched movies with popcorn and soda. We laid down on my bed with my laptop in front of us, enjoying each other's company, being at peace with ourselves in that moment.

"Isaac," I spoke one Friday night, begging to ask him a question that had been weighing down on my shoulders for the longest time.

"Kara," he responded, smiling his usual lopsided, warm smile. I wouldn't have asked him if I had someone else to ask, namely a best friend, but, well, to me, it felt like he was my best friend. So what else do you do when your best friend and crush are the same person? No, really, not a rhetorical question, I have absolutely no idea.

"You're my friend,"

"I'd like to think so," I start these conversations off well.

"I was just wondering," I took a deep breath, and he smiled at me once again, egging me to go on, "how do you tell a friend that you want to…you know, be more than 'just friends'? I mean, in a, um, romantic kind of way, if that makes sense?"

He looked down, thinking or something. "That depends."

"On what?" He looked up at me with a grin, but something was off.

"Who's the lucky guy?" I laughed, and pushed his shoulder lightly.

"I'll tell you once I find the stupid courage to tell him." I bit my lip nervously. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach, my hands shaking.

"Well, I, uh, can't say I have much experience with this kind of thing. I asked Lydia Martin out freshman year, but she just laughed and walked away." He shrugged. "That was kind of humiliating. But, I don't know, you might have a totally different experience."

Over the last few weeks, Isaac has been able to string together a few more sentences. It was nice, comforting. He didn't babble like me and he always said something that soothed the butterflies in my tummy, like his voice was honey. "You asked out Lydia Martin?"

"Yeah, kind of regret that."

"Have you ever asked anybody else out?" I prodded. I just wanted to know more and more about him, even if it broke my heart, I wanted to take the risk.

"I've considered it," he spoke carefully.

"Why didn't you?" I pushed further. He just laughed. I guessed he was used to my insane curiosity.

"This is…going to sound really stupid, so, don't laugh,"

"Cross my heart," I performed the action with my finger, earning a grateful nod in response.

"I just don't think I deserve it. I feel like something would go wrong, and it'd be all my fault. I ruin everything I touch, and I couldn't stand it if I ruined someone else's life." His eyes bore deep into mine, and in an instant, I could feel what he felt, his sadness, his regret, his indecisiveness, his anger.

"You haven't ruined my life." I voiced with conviction.

"Yet."

"Not ever, you're my best friend, you've made me happier in these last few weeks than anyone has in my entire life, don't forget that, you've only made my life better." His eyes watered, and so did mine.

"When you see this guy next, just tell him straight up, I like you, and if he doesn't look like he's about to throw up, just tell him you'd like to go out next week." He said everything so surely, like he was convinced no one could say 'no' to me.

"And if he does look like he wants to throw up?" The boy shrugged.

"He's not worth your time." Isaac said with finality. "If he says he's not interested, then understand it's because he doesn't realise that he's turning down the most beautiful girl in the school."

"Isaac," I was lost for words, so instead, I rose up on my knees, sitting on my feet. I was speechless.

"Uh, sorry, if that was too forward, or something, I didn't mean to…" he trailed, sitting up onto his butt, bringing his knees into his chest.

"No, that's, what you said, that was…perfect," he looked up at me, his face blank but his eyes screaming. I just wish I knew what they were trying to say. I crawled towards him, and sat as humanly close to him, holding his hand gently in my own. They were rougher than mine, and much larger, and so warm. "Did you mean all of that?"

"Every word," he whispered. I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't contain the urges boiling in my tummy, I let loose the feelings pent up for so long and let myself finally kiss his red lips.

Softly, almost hesitantly, I let myself fall into it, bringing my hand up to his cheek in attempt to bring him in deeper. He obliged, sucking softly on my bottom lip, and trailing his hand up behind my head, keeping us close. I moaned a little into the kiss, his lips as soft as I imagined, but it was short lived. He pulled away with a deep breath, separating himself from me, removing his hand and mine.

"I'm sorry, I, I need to go." Was all he said before rushing off, down the stairs and out the door.

A few different emotions passed through me in that moment. Confusion, pain, sadness, anger.

He kissed me back, he held me for a mere moment, before pushing me away. What did that mean? Did he like me? Did he not like me and he just needed to kiss someone? Was he mad? Scared? I was scared. Terrified, that I just made the worst mistake and didn't even have a friend to talk to about it.

Needless to say, the night felt longer than it ever had. Isaac didn't answer my calls that weekend, and I knew he was avoiding me Monday morning back at school. He couldn't avoid me for long since we had English together second period, though that didn't mean he didn't try. He was seated at the very back by the window - he loved the window seat - and I sat by him, waiting for our teacher to finally arrive.

"Can we talk?" I half whispered to him. Everyone was loudly chatting about, so they were unlikely to hear us anyway, but I'm overly cautious sometimes. Sometimes. Clearly.

"Nothing to talk about." He stared out the window, jaw set. I noticed he had a bruise fading on his cheekbone but said nothing.

"How about how you walked out on me on Friday?" It felt harsh, but necessary. Some things needed to be done.

"I didn't walk out."

"Will you at least let me apologise?" I nearly whined, trying to get him to look at me, glimpse at me, pretend he was even slightly interested in me.

"What for?" He sighed, fiddling with his fingers. I noticed offhandedly that his nails were dirty, probably because he worked late last night. He usually did on Sundays.

"For doing what I did, it wasn't fair of me, and I'm sorry for ruining what we had." I wasn't sure why I said what I said. It wasn't entirely true, but I supposed at this point, I didn't really care. I cared so much for him, that I would say almost anything. I was sorry for upsetting him, but not sorry for the kiss we shared, especially because I could tell, he at least enjoyed that a little.

"You didn't…you didn't ruin anything." He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Can we talk later? I'll swing by your place after school."

I nodded in acceptance, knowing there wasn't much I could do or say in that moment.

Waiting the entire day, however, was painful. Especially since we had gym and history together on Mondays, and seeing Isaac in his gym shorts was God's gift to me, especially sweaty, sexy Isaac, but I tried to hide my attraction and the fact that I've thought about Isaac like that way too much.

The end of the day finally arrived, and like usual, I fixed Isaac a sandwich while I waited for him to get here. Usually he arrived about five minutes later than me, but when fifteen minutes came and went, I started worrying he wasn't going to show.

Twenty, then thirty, and I gave up. He didn't want to see me.

My parents wouldn't be home until six, sometimes seven o'clock. They were both professors at the local college. They were actually at Harvard until they wanted a nice quiet life in Beacon Hills. I always hated them for this quiet life until I met Isaac. Now, I wished for something else: for me to keep my stupid mouth shut, none of this would've happened if not for me.

What made it all the worse was that he literally told me, physically said the words, that he didn't ask anyone out because he felt like he ruined everything he touched. I should have respected that, and I didn't. No wonder he wanted to ignore me…

I heard my parents walk through the door. They were early for once. My mother asked me if I wanted lasagna for dinner, and my dad asked me if I had a good day at school. I answered them both, 'yes', before saying I had some work to catch up on. I sat on my bed, and tried desperately to revise the economics reading, but my brain wasn't functioning. As I threw my workbook to the other side of the bed, there was a knock at the door.

"Not now, mom." She knocked again, and I got up, throwing the door open to tell my mother that I was very busy when I came face to face with blue eyes and honey blond hair. "Oh."

"Hey, Kara," he twitched his mouth as if in attempt to smile. "Your mom let me in, she said to just come up. Can I come in?"

I didn't say anything, just gestured to my open room, closing the door behind him.

"I was going to be here on time, I just forgot I had last minute practice. Coach only called it this morning." I nodded. I didn't know what to say. He had an excuse, I supposed, and I guessed there was no point in wondering whether or not he was lying. He was here, and that was more than I could ask.

"You should be more careful at practice." I said, pointing out the small graze on his collar that peeked under his favourite black leather jacket. I didn't realise he could get hurt there with all the padding he's supposed to wear when he played.

"Oh, yeah, it's a, uh, violent sport," he chuckled awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," I let the words fall out, "for being an idiot. You pretty much told me you didn't want a relationship, and I went on ahead and did what I did-"

"Kara-"

"-and I should have respected that, but I didn't, and I am so sorry for that-"

"Kara, I-"

"-but I can't say that I didn't like it because that was the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses, I mean, not like I have much to compare it to, but I know you liked it as much as I did, but I hope you don't think I'm a bitch or something, because it won't ever happen again-"

"Kara, if you'd just let me-"

"-unless you actually want it to happen, because I definitely would, not that I'm desperate or anything, just that-mmph!" His hand covered my mouth, effectively silencing me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he laughed a real laugh.

"Kara, stop babbling, and let me tell you how I feel." His beautiful eyes stared into mine with utter sincerity, and I couldn't help but nod and sit down on the bed, preparing for the worst, all the while, hoping for the best. "You're right, I did like that kiss, and, and I really l-like you. You're beautiful, smart, funny, you're patient when I don't get stupid chemistry stuff, you're always willing to lend me a hand with anything and everything, you're always making sure I'm okay, and I'm pretty sure you see right through me when I'm not, even if you don't understand why. I like you, a lot, a-and, I've been wanting to ask you out for ages, but…"

His voice trailed off, and I finished his sentence, "but you feel like you don't deserve happiness, and that the universe would break us apart if you ever that glimpse of happiness."

"Yeah…" He sat down beside me, grabbing my hand in both of his. They were clammy, and shaking slightly. "I've already ruined our first kiss, my first kiss ever-"

"-mine, too."

"You kiss really well for your first time."

"Thanks, likewise." I rested my head on his shoulder, letting him continue.

"I ruined our first kiss, and the universe pretty much told me I couldn't come see you tonight, and when I saw your dad, I was ninety percent sure he was ready to lecture me about the after effects of me hurting you, and even though I really want us to work, I…I guess I'm just scared…"

"Scared of what?" I dropped my free hand on his knee, drawing patterns through the denim cloth as his soft, near-whispering voice spoke,

"Scared I'll hurt you, a-and that I-I'll be, I'll be bad for you, th-that the uni-universe will break us apart…"

"Hey, Isaac?" I lifted my head from his shoulder, and looked him dead in the eye, gently putting a hand up to his cheek, rubbing my thumb back and forth over his smooth skin. He cocked his head cutely, as if asking me to continue. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yeah," He responded. We were both shaking as our heads moved closer, our noses touching, his hands moving over to my thighs, mine wrapping around the back of his neck. All I could think about was how magical it felt right now, how the skin under his hands burned with a need to be touched more, how close and far apart our lips were. It felt like electricity passed through me when our lips finally met, softly, unmoving, the both of us sucking gently on the other's reddening lips. My face felt hot, my hands sweaty, but I'd never felt something so right, not even the first time we did this.

Our lips separated for half a second, before coming together once again, stronger, more confidently. His other hand found its way into my hair, pulling me closer to him, and nothing in the world could feel better than this moment.

We parted for air, our hearts beating erratically as one.

"Isaac?" I panted, our foreheads meeting. My eyes were closed shut as I tried with all my might to calm my breathing and heart rate.

"Kara?" He panted out, sounding as out of breath as me.

"That felt like a pretty big sign that the universe wants us to be together," I wasn't sure what came over me when I said that, perhaps the hype from the kiss had made me delirious, or perhaps that was just the kiss, but I knew that the rising confidence in me was strange and foreign.

"I think you're right," he pecked my lips before falling back on the bed, arms wide and inviting me to join him. I did so without question, embracing the warmth he provided as he embraced me, my head sat comfortably under his chin, ear pressed against his hard chest. I didn't notice his flinching in pain, and he didn't say anything about it.

"Would you like to do that on a more regular basis?" He laughed at me, his heartbeat apparent to my eager ears.

"You always say things in the weirdest way possible, don't you?"

"I think I could be weirder." I smiled as he shook his head.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." His hand rubbed my back as his deep voice reverberated through his chest, "I would love to do that on a more regular basis. Kara Moore, will you go out with me?"

"Isaac Lahey, I'd love nothing more."

* * *

 _A/N: That's the end of that! Like I said before, if you want a few more chapters, let me know. I love Isaac a heap so maybe I can string together a few more words for him if you guys are interested enough._

 _Hope you liked it, give me a review if you did, a favourite and/or a follow. Much love!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, or any characters associated with Teen Wolf. I only own Kara Moore._


	2. Chapter 2

It felt like a dream, having Isaac holding my hand at school every day, eating lunch together, making him snacks to enjoy because more often than not, he forgot to bring food and sometimes money.

I couldn't be happier.

We studied together all the time, and his grades gradually improved. He was averaging a D in chemistry but everything else was picking up, history, English, economics, maths, you name it. Whenever we weren't studying and my parents were late home, we took some time to enjoy each other's company. Namely, lips.

We hadn't got passed kissing really, I still hadn't seen more of his body, and he hadn't seen more of mine, but that was okay. I figured he was as self-conscious as me, since we're both pretty shy at the end of the day. He still let his hands roam a little, though he never touched my breasts nor did he ever roam too high up my thighs, and I only touched his chest and back. He didn't like me touching his body too much. No, he never said it, I could just see his expression every now and then whenever I did, the pain flickering in his eyes. The one time I asked, he kissed me and said, "lacrosse", and I was swept away by his enrapturing, plump lips.

It was by then that I had realised we'd only been dating for a week, not years.

"I don't know why you're so freaked out by this." Isaac commented as he waited for me to collect my books from my locker. "We've known each other a long time, it's understandable."

"I know, but it just feels so…you know?" I couldn't find the words, exhilarating, breath-taking, fantastical, none were fitting.

"Right? Perfect? Good? Like destiny?" He leaned against the locker beside mine, grinning with pure joy.

"Exactly." We held hands until the end of the corridor, where we went our separate ways. My _boyfriend_ went to French while I went to maths, dreading the next hour.

Later that evening, we had our parent teacher conferences. My parents knew all about Isaac, but his dad didn't know anything about me. He said he was trying to find the right time, but there never seemed to be a "right time" since he was either working, studying, at school, or his father was working.

I stepped into the room where Mr. Harris sat, my parents following in behind. My chemistry teacher shook their hands and they introduced themselves.

"Let's jump straight into it, shall we?" Mr. Harris invited us to sit. "Academically speaking, Kara is an above average student."

"She's averaging a B plus in my class, it's risen slightly, perhaps due to the fact she's taken on the mantle of tutoring Mr. Lahey." My dad coughed a little. "Is there something wrong, professor Moore?"

"Well, I guess I'm just surprised they're studying." I felt my cheeks flush, and heard my mom giggling.

"Dad!" I scolded, fuming on the inside.

"Don't mind him, please continue." My mom pressed.

"Well, as I was saying," the sharp eyed man glanced down at his notes before speaking, "she's improving across the board from what I can see, so I'd recommend they continue tutoring. Something that concerns me is the lack of extra-curricular activities. While it's not necessary, it does look better on college applications. Perhaps she could join the book club, as her average grade in English is an A plus."

"She's always been a big reader, so I guess she'll get right on that, won't you sweetie?" I nodded at my dad. I couldn't say much against him when it came to schooling, he was a college professor after all.

"You did mention to me on the phone earlier, that there was something that concerned you?" Mum pushed.

"Ah, yes, there is the matter of social groups. While I understand that some students tend to be more successful than others in the art of making a friend, and high school can be an unforgiving life, I've noticed as have her other teachers, that Kara tends to show next to no social skills."

"What exactly are you implying?" My dad furrowed his brows, glancing at me. I could feel panic rising.

"Put simply, Kara has no friends, and works very much as a lone wolf in classes. When assigned group projects, she'll wait to be told what to do instead of helping to organise the group. She shows no leadership skills, acts merely as a sheep, and sits only with Lahey." I felt my parents' eyes on me and the embarrassment growing exponentially. "Therefore, I would recommend you urge her to start making small, menial decisions."

"Hold on, are you saying my daughter has absolutely no friends?" My dad didn't look happy. Probably because I always said I was studying at a friend's or was meeting a friend or what have you whenever I wanted to leave the house, which was often. I did it because I didn't want them to worry that I was alone at school and miserable, because I wanted them to think I was happy, because I didn't want them to know I was a friendless loser.

"Barring Lahey? None. She follows him whenever he's not following her." My dad shook his head in frustration. "At the very least, I think her…relationship…with Lahey is mutually beneficial, they occasionally talk to other students, though to what degree, I'm unsure."

"Well, that was certainly…enlightening, Mr. Harris." My mom spoke, sounding not to elated herself.

"I sense that there are some things you will wish to discuss, and my next conference will be waiting." He showed us out, and my parents and I walked to the car. I could see my dad was pretty angry, but my mom walked beside me, giving a sympathetic smile for my benefit only.

On the way out, I saw Isaac leaving the car with his father, and he saw me. I smiled at him, he smiled back, though it was forced. He seemed uncomfortable, like something was wrong, but I would talk to him tomorrow. There was no sense in letting his father know about us if Isaac wasn't prepared to say anything just yet. Like me, he was nervous.

The car ride was awful, silent, tense, and I couldn't stand it in the slightest.

When we finally arrived home, I could feel the intervention coming even before my father asked me to sit in his office chair, usually reserved only for him.

"Look, sweetie," he took off his metal framed glasses and sat the down gently beside his computer keyboard. "We're not mad."

"If anything, we're disappointed that you lied to us." My mother pushed the hair out of her eyes before speaking again, "we don't mind you being with Isaac-"

"-Speak for yourself."

"Shaun." Her eyes were stern as she looked at her husband, who grunted in response. "He seems like a good boy, but I think Mr. Harris was right when he said that it was mutually beneficial, but I think it's about time you started making some new friends, and joining a club seems like the best idea."

"I, for one, think you need to make some better decisions. Miriam, while I agree that she should join a club, I think she should steer clear of that boy for a little while."

"Dad!" I stood up in rage, waiting to defend the curly headed boy who took up so much of my mind.

"Kara, I will not repeat myself."

"Shaun, this is ridiculous, she's tutoring him, and it's helping her study as well!" To my surprise, my mother stood up to my father, not liking the bad decision he was trying to make.

"Well, she can make some new friends to study with, she doesn't need a boy!" I couldn't get a word in between the two, they just wouldn't stop arguing, nor lowering their voices long enough for me to think of what I could say.

"Except that you and I both know that she's never been happier!"

"Except that you and I both know they won't be studying for long! Not to mention, he's a sixteen year old boy, he's bigger than her, and he could easily overpower her if he wanted, who knows what he could do to our daughter!"

"No wonder she feels the need to lie to us, you keep forcing her into making bad decisions!"

"Like that boy!"

"If you tell her she's not allowed to see her boyfriend, she will make the decision to lie to us to see him!"

"And pray tell, how do you know that?"

"Because that's exactly what I did at that age!" My father was lost for words, which was quite interesting since he could talk the legs off a table. It had been a long time since my parents had seriously argued over something, and I couldn't remember the last time they argued with such ferocity.

My mother took a deep breath before turning to me, "honey, Isaac is free to come over whenever he likes, invite him to dinner this week or something, I'd love to get to know him." My father grumbled sitting down in his office chair while rubbing his temples. "However, he's only allowed over if you at least _try_ to make some friends."

I nodded, "I'll try."

* * *

Isaac was late to school the next day.

Apparently there was a mountain lion that found its way into the school parking lot. I was terrified, he didn't answer my calls or texts, and there was an actual killing lion in the same vicinity as him. Was he okay? Did he need help? Was he there when it happened? Was he at home? Was he coming to school? I didn't know, and that was the scariest thing of all.

When I finally saw him in English, a weight was lifted off my shoulders as I sat in the desk next to his. He seemed particularly interested in the outside.

"Isaac, you're okay," I sighed in relief as I unpacked my books and pens, "I was so worried, I heard about last, I wanted to check that you're okay."

His head whipped around and his blue eyes were cold and still. I'd never seen them like that. He was sporting a busted lip that seemed fairly fresh, and looked pretty painful, especially as he opened his mouth to whisper hollowly, "Last night?"

"Yeah, the mountain lion attack, what happened? You didn't answer my calls, I was worried." I lifted a hand to touch his wounded lip, but he caught it before I could get close enough.

"Sorry, i-it just still hurts." I nodded pulling my hand away while still gripping his tightly. "Someone accidentally hit me in the rush last night, no big deal but yeah, it kind of hurts. Don't worry, the lion didn't really get near me."

He made a little effort to smile, and I rubbed his leg comfortingly until the teacher announced the class. Little did I know, Isaac had one of the worst nights in a long time, and the window seat made him feel twenty times better, knowing that there was light, fresh air, happiness in the world, he could see it, feel it. Little did I know, Isaac's bad grades were punishable by torture.

We got through English together, then later chemistry and history, finishing class on a high note despite the rough start. I held his hand at any opportunity, but I also took a chance when I sat next to Allison Argent, the now, not-so-new girl during economics.

"Hey, did you do the reading last night?" I lent over and asked her. She nodded with a confused smile. I was fairly certain she'd never heard me speak before, sometimes I felt the same. My heart thumped erratically in my chest, but I reasoned with myself, I needed to do this for Isaac, if we wanted to be together, for Isaac. "Did you get the part about mainstream economics and heterodox economics?"

She tilted her head at me, unsurely. "I'm not sure that was the reading, in fact I'm pretty sure we're not looking at mainstream or heterodox until after midterms."

"Oh," I pouted. "Well, that might be why I didn't understand it…"

Allison laughed, explaining the gist of the correct reading to me before Finstock entered the room with his usual frown and furrowed brows, probably because of Greenberg.

We had some spare study time, in which most people talked since Finstock didn't seem to actually care, he'd already handed out the essay outline for the task that was due the next week.

"How're you finding Beacon Hills so far?" I nudged, trying to find something to say to the new girl.

"Um, in a word, small." I laughed awkwardly, pinching my thigh under the table.

"Yeah, it's like that, but I guess it can get pretty homey, I've always wondered what it'd be like to live somewhere…not here."

"Here's nice still, and there are some pretty great people, but I can't say I was expecting mountain lions."

"They're really not that common, I swear." I bit my lip, as I usually did when I tried to hold back my nerves.

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything," the doe-eyed girl began, "but is there a reason you're suddenly talking to me?"

"You got me," I sighed, feeling the guilt wash over me, "my parents found out I don't have any friends, and are forcing me to make some…"

"I thought you were going out with Isaac?" She questioned curiously.

"I am, unless I continue to be friendless." I slouched in my seat, feeling shameful as I hid my face behind my hands.

"So, your parents will only let you go out with him if you make some friends?" She pushed further.

"Yeah, pretty much, and you seemed the nicest and least scary." Allison giggled.

"Well, if you'd like a friend, I'll be happy to be yours." She smiled at me, and I could feel my whole world exploding in fireworks. "What's your number? I can text you later so we can hang out some time, maybe go shopping or something."

* * *

I nearly jumped on Isaac when I saw him at the end of the day.

"Guess what!"

"What?"

"You're allowed to come over, and we're allowed to keep seeing each other!" I was so giddy, I felt like I'd just found a puppy that wanted to stay with me forever and ever. "I made a friend!"

Isaac laughed at me, but still looked on edge, seemingly more so than this morning.

"That's great."

"Is something wrong?"

"I can't come over today, my dad wants me home to help out with some stuff, I hope you don't mind." His eyes squinted a little as he spoke, as if something was weighing on his mind. He walked me to my car and we both leaned on it for some semblance of stability.

"Well, that's okay, you can come over for dinner another night. My mom will wait, maybe not for long because she's dying to get to know you and all, but I'm sure she won't mind if you can't make it, I mean, your dad needs you for stuff." I babbled, out of breath by the time the last word fell out.

"Yeah, I'll see about tomorrow, but he's been a bit upset about my grades, he might not like it if I'm out too late." I nodded in understanding, watching as his eyes squinted once again.

"That's okay, just, you know, let me know when you know." I kissed the corner of his lip, the non-battered side, before jumping in my car with final words, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Mom didn't mind, but I did. I missed him so much already. Was this normal? I just wanted to feel his arms around me, his warmth, I wanted to hear his honey voice again, and talk all night long about silly things. Did everyone feel like this with their boyfriends and girlfriends? Did Isaac feel the same way? I wanted to smell his aftershave and fall asleep with him, I wanted to wake up to see his face knowing that we had no where urgent to be, not school, not work. I wanted to watch movies until sunrise with him, and drown in his peppered kisses. I didn't care what we did, as long as I was with him.

I was in so deep, but let's face it, I've been in this relationship for a year, he's been in it for a week.

* * *

Isaac finally made it over for an early dinner on Thursday. There was no school Thursday or Friday due to an incident at the school, but no one was really sure what it was. Rumours spun out of control but one of the few things seemed fairly common between them was Derek Hale was involved as the police had warrants for his arrest.

I couldn't complain, no school was a good day, and Isaac was a great day.

Mom made her special pot roast for the occasion, excited to have a nice chat with my first (and hopefully, last) boyfriend.

"So, Isaac, I hear you work with your father, is that correct?" We sat around the large, polished dining table, Isaac across from me, digging into his food eagerly. At the mention of his father, I noticed him tense, but said nothing of it. I gathered enough that they didn't have the best relationship.

"Um, yes, nothing fancy, I usually work the night shifts." My mother smiled warmly while my father huffed, his grey hair looking greyer by the minute.

"So you dig graves, is this a long term career plan?" I glared at my father, wishing I could push his annoying face into his stupid potatoes.

"Uh, no, not at all," Isaac swallowed nervously, looking carefully between my father and me. "I like French and economics, so I might see what I can do there."

"Isaac is really good at French, he's getting A's in practically everything." I spoke up with pride, seeing the smile flitter across Isaac's face, trying desperately to show off the boy to my strict father.

"There are lots of options with languages," my mother began, chewing on a piece of broccoli and effectively cutting off my father, "say nothing of teaching, there's translating and interpreting, there's travelling options, I hear many people are going overseas to teach English these days." I noticed the cheeky grin on her face as she stood up for Isaac against my father.

"Have you considered teaching?" He quipped, polishing off his plate.

"I'm not sure I'd be a very good teacher," my beautiful boyfriend frowned slightly, as if he were trying to butter up my mom even more, "but I think Kara should consider it, I don't think I've understood this much chemistry in a long time."

Mom and I laughed while dad nodded, "Kara would be excellent at anything she put her mind to."

"I agree, sir. She's the most incredible person I've ever met." My face heated up like a sunburn, but Isaac's eyes never left my father's, as if to say he would never let me go no matter how much my father tried, challenging him to even try.

"Isaac, why don't you help me with dessert?" Was his only response, but the twitch of a smile on his ageing face didn't go unnoticed as he and Isaac collected all the plates, and left for the other room.

"He's a cute one." Mom smiled, her bright, painted red lips contrasting against her pearly whites. "Don't let him get away."

"Mom…" I groaned, but she looked at me with a knowing smile nonetheless.

The rest of the evening went smoothly, mostly my mom talking about funny things her students wrote on their history papers, and my dad didn't even really complain when I took Isaac back up to my room.

"I'm sorry about my dad, did he say anything to you in the kitchen?"

"No, he was fine, just protective. I get that." He shoved his hands in his pockets, he scrubbed up especially nice for the evening, and he looked incredibly attractive, if I do say so myself.

"Do you still have work tonight?" I queried, sitting on my bed, my hands comfortably under my bottom to stop my fidgeting. I still got so nervous around him, the butterflies were ever present.

The curly haired boy seemed to freeze, "shit."

"Isaac?" A look of panic overtook his expression, his hands coming up to my face so fast I almost hadn't noticed, and he kissed me quickly.

"I'm so sorry," he near-shouted, beginning to bolt out of my room in a haste as I attempted to keep up. "I'm so late, my dad's going to be furious, I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow!"

Within seconds, he was out the door with a quick wave to my parents who were sitting in the lounge room watching a documentary, and jumped on his bike, pedalling away as fast as possible.

I looked at my parents, who in turn looked at me with raised brows of confusion, "he's a bit…quirky at times…" and they accepted that.

As for me, something was off, and I could see it in Isaac's eyes, in the way his body froze, the way the colour seemed to drain from his face.

From that moment, I swore I would find out what it was Isaac was hiding, the thing that seemed to tear him apart even if it killed me.

* * *

 _Special thanks to Aria for reviewing, that was very sweet of you and to georgiaLOVESturtles for favouriting and following. Because of you, I decided I'd write another chapter. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to review!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf_


	3. Chapter 3

_Pre-warning: there is somewhat smutty material that you may find offensive. Read at your own risk._

* * *

When I next saw Allison, she seemed near heartbroken. Apparently she and Scott had a falling out, and they sort-of, kind-of, broke up. Well, to say the least, I couldn't entirely understand why, she didn't really delve into that, however, she invited me to go shopping with her and Lydia, something I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to.

Perhaps because I just wanted to see Isaac, who had been extremely unavailable as of late. He ignored my texts and calls, and only spoke to me at school in short sentences.

On Wednesday, I sat next to him, hoping against hope that our history teacher would be late for class so I'd have just a few extra minutes to talk.

"Isaac, I feel likes it's been months since we talked, or even since we last saw each other." I near-whined, hoping Allison wasn't listening in to our conversation.

"Sorry, I've been busy." He replied, but didn't seem to really be here, his mind was somewhere else.

"Why haven't you been answering my texts and calls?" It was almost like that time with the mountain lion, he ignored his phone entirely, or at least me. "Did I do something? Was it my family?"

"No, no it wasn't your family, and it definitely wasn't your fault." He shook his head, bringing his hand up to his mouth and biting his nails like he always did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

"What wasn't my fault?" I queried. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing." He turned his head out the window.

"Is this about you being late to work?" His body visibly flinched, but before I had time to further investigate, the teacher walked in, handing out sheets to everyone for a pop quiz, much to my dismay. When class ended, as soon as I looked up from my desk, Isaac was almost already out the door.

I sighed, feeling my heart breaking in pain, although I wasn't entirely sure it was mine. Allison came over to me and grabbed my shoulder.

"Is everything okay?" Her big doe-eyes investigated, worry fluttering across her pretty face.

"I don't know, he won't, he's not, I can't…" my eyes prickled as I felt them flooding with tears, and Allison hugged me, the only thing she could think of to console me.

* * *

I sat in the crowd, watching the game with not nearly enough anticipation as everyone else in the crowd cheered the Cyclones on. I kept thinking about Isaac, watching as he played almost as a complete sideliner in the game. He got the ball a few times, but he didn't score at all. I'd watched him play before, I knew he was better than this, but he seemed to be off his game, as though one of the tackles he received earlier had hurt him more than he let on.

Allison gave me some comfort, as well as distraction from Isaac when she told me about what happened in English with Scott. Turns out he didn't take being dumped too well, and tried to get her to take him back, or something along those lines. I think some details were spared, due to the rush of the game, and that her aunt, Kate, and her father, Chris were on her other side. Lydia was nowhere to be seen, but there were rumours that Jackson broke up with her earlier via text. Honestly, I wasn't sure I expected anything else from him, being the jerk he is.

The game finished with an uproar, our team won!

I left the stands to find Isaac, to try and catch up with him after his game and congratulate him, perhaps even earn more than a courtesy wave or greeting. He was gone by the time I hit the field, and I was caught between a mass of people. A hand wrapped around my wrist firmly, and I turned around with childish naivety that maybe Isaac was there, but it was just Allison.

 _Just_ Allison. Who says that? I'm a terrible person, my friend is falling apart and I can't even offer her the time of day because I'm so caught up in my own problems…

"Hey, are you okay?" I nodded wordlessly, but she could see through me. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No, no, I'll be fine, my dad is picking me up." I smiled, before saying, "don't worry, I'll be fine. You can go home, text me when we're going shopping."

"Yeah, sure." She gave me a quick hug, as if to say 'be careful', before turning around and following her dad and aunt.

I headed back towards the school, knowing Isaac would be hitting the showers before heading home. The air was chilly, and honestly, I was terrified. The hairs on my neck stood up and my hands were clammy but I kept on walking. I hated walking through the school at night, especially all alone, but I guessed there wasn't much else to do if I wanted to see Isaac.

The very same Isaac who had apparently already gone home, judging by the bleakness of the boys locker room.

I sighed, readying for the walk home. I lied to Allison, my father wasn't coming to pick me up, I just wanted this excuse to go see him.

I crossed my arms in attempt to keep myself warm as I started trekking back outside and onto the footpath, looking down and staying sharp. In hindsight, it was probably a very bad idea to be wandering around, alone, in the dark, when there was a serial killer on the loose, but apparently, I can't think ahead to save my life. Literally.

I stood still at the intersection when an idea occurred to me. If I turned right, I'd get home in about fifteen minutes by foot, but if I went straight ahead, I'd make it to Isaac's in ten.

But I shouldn't.

Or I could.

But Isaac wouldn't like it if I dropped by his place.

Though he's not giving me much of a choice, he won't talk to me anywhere else.

But I could get him into trouble.

Or I could convince his dad that his tutor is really helpful in helping his son learn stuff…

But I'd probably still have to walk home which would take a while…

But this walk is much quicker than home.

Turns out, my legs were already moving towards Isaac's, my body aching to be near his, aching to feel his warmth and comfort, missing his presence and the safety of his long arms, his smile and voice, even if he didn't provide me with that, maybe I could convince him otherwise. Does that make me sound like that bitchy, possibly ex-, girlfriend who's desperate for love? Probably.

I arrived at his house, noticing how much more rundown it looked compared to the fancy, nicely rendered house across the road. I rung the doorbell and waited.

An older man, Isaac's father, answered the door, a questioning frown on his face as he looked at me. I'd seen him before at the conference. He was just as frown-y then as he was now, and I caught myself thinking that he was either a grumpy old man or just had a resting frown face.

"Can I help you?" He asked politely, though he looked and sounded like he wanted to close the door on her.

"Hi, sorry for bothering you so late, Mr. Lahey, I'm a friend of Isaac's, Kara Moore," I announced, plastering a fake smile on my face that felt odd and rigid. "Is Isaac available?"

"Psh, friend." I heard him grumble to himself before stepping aside. "He's upstairs in his room, second door on the right. Might want to knock first. Who knows what that kid does."

"Thank you, sir." I smiled again, more awkwardly this time. He merely grumbled before sitting himself down in front of the television, drinking what looked to be whiskey straight from the bottle. The house was a little nicer on the inside, there were lots of photos of a young man hanging along the walls, and occasionally a family photo of Mr. Lahey and two boys. I supposed Isaac had a brother, though he had never mentioned it beforehand.

Most of the lights were off upstairs, except for one, which peeked out from under the second door on the right. I rapped my knuckles on the plain white door, but received no answer, and none the second time around, so I invited myself in. The room was void of life.

"Where are you, Isaac?" I whispered quietly to myself. I was about to leave, but decided, what was the harm in having a look around? It's kind of creepy, but even after all the time we've been friends turned boyfriends slash girlfriend, I still haven't ever been to his house, let alone his room.

My eyes wandered with a burning curiosity. He had a large bed pushed up against the wall beneath the window (Isaac always liked the window spot), and a bedside table with a small lamp and photo frame. I felt my face turn red as I saw that the photo was me, smiling like a big goof when Isaac took a snap decision photo of me. The floor had clothes scattered all around, and there was a desk beside another door, probably a bathroom with my chemistry notes placed neatly beside his school books. I presumed he kept studying even though he hadn't seen me in nearly a week. A small dresser stood in the corner with various knick-knacks all over it, some comics, English books, statues, a jewellery box, and an unopened box of condoms. Extra large condoms. Oh, boy.

Once again, my face turned red at the prospect of Isaac buying condoms for us, and I bit my lip contemplatively up until the bathroom door opened and the boy in question walked out with merely a towel around his slim waist, dripping wet and shocked beyond belief to see me standing in his room.

"Oh, my, it's a dream come true," I mumbled, unable to tear my eyes away.

"Kara! What are you doing here?" He halted in his tracks, staring at me staring at him. He was fitter than I thought he'd be, more muscular, but not incredibly defined, but golly gosh he was still drop dead sexy…it took me longer than I would've liked to see the large, slightly bleeding bruise on his ribs, and the fading scar across his chest. If my jaw hadn't dropped before, it would've dropped then, I strode forth in terror at what I was seeing, not realising that I was touching Isaac's naked body for the first time, noticing the way he flinched.

"What happened to you?" I felt ears prickling in my eyes as I stared up at his eyes, but he pushed past me and threw a shirt on, leaving the towel that hung low on his hips, and sat down on his bed.

"Nothing, just lacrosse…" but he didn't look me in the eyes. I followed suit, deciding that kneeling in front of him while he wore only a towel was probably not the best decision to make in this moment.

"Isaac, please," I begged, voice soft as I grabbed his hand. We both knew there was no way that was from lacrosse.

"Promise you won't say anything?" He didn't want to say, I knew this, but he was bleeding, bruised, he was like a kicked puppy.

"Depends on what the answer is." I couldn't lie. If I knew this person, if this was a regular thing, then I might just have to. He knew this better than I. He hesitated, then opened his mouth slightly as he spoke with no more than a course whisper.

"There's this g-group that, uh, visits the graveyard, a-and, th-they beat me up i-if I don't give them money. I-I haven't had much money lately because, because I spent most of it on you." He swallowed thickly, but something still didn't sit right. I had this niggling at the back of my mind that there was something he wasn't telling me yet, but I figured, why force him to say something more when he's already trusted me with a heap? It must've been a pretty terrifying step. If I ever regretted anything, it would be never asking him to tell me everything.

"Do I know them? Do they go to our school?" He shook his head, dropping his face into his hands, as though he were resisting hitting something himself.

"Please don't say anything." He begged me, head snapping up to greet me with watering eyes. "Please! I just n-need some more time to, to just settle everything. It'll be over, I, I promise you!"

"If it gets worse…" I shook my head. It was honestly a lot to take in, knowing my boyfriend was getting beaten up routinely at work. "But if you think it'll be over soon, then I promise."

"Thank you…" He relaxed slightly. I held his hand while he tried to calm himself down, I could feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

"Is this why you didn't talk to me?" Honestly, I was half afraid to hear the answer.

"Yeah, mostly, I, uh, just haven't really been able to, to, you know, get there. It was bad last week when I showed up late. The other reason is because they broke my phone and I can't afford a new one."

"It''s okay, I understand." I rested my head on his shoulder, and he rested his head on mine. "But from now on, no more ignoring me. You can't keep this kind of thing to yourself."

"Kara-"

"No buts." I said firmly, squeezing his hand a little. "If this was happening to me, you'd already be beating those guys up and throwing them in a ditch somewhere in the middle of the woods. I'm not reporting this or telling your dad so the least you could do is open up to me a little more. I care about you, like, a lot, and I need you, but if you won't let me be with you, if you keep pushing me away or ignoring you, then you're going to get really hurt, and-"

"And you'll leave me?"

"What? No, never, I just said I need you, I mean not like that, just like, you know, I need to be around you, not in the creepy, stalker way or anything, and not in that other way, I mean, not like I don't want that or anything because I do, and like I guess you might want to, too, judging by the condoms on your dresser but like I don't think I'm ready for that but like don't get me wrong, I have thought about it, I mean, like, a lot, I have but when I say I need you, I mean, you're the only person I want to be with!" By the time I finished my rambling, I actually realised what I'd said.

"I, uh, I know you already feel really awkward but, uh, this'll make things more awkward," Isaac started, slowly lifting his head and biting his lip nervously. "Those condoms aren't for us, they're just for me."

I lifted my head off his shoulder, wringing my fingers and watching him, mortified of what I'd said, "what do you mean for you?"

"W-well, you know how you just said that you've, you know, thought about us, doing stuff and…stuff?" I nodded, making a sound that we both assumed was my go ahead. He spoke carefully, nervously, thinking of the best words to say in his current position. "Thinking about you, a-and being with you, and k-kissing you, it gets me…thinking…about doing stuff and when I'm at home, and a-away from you, I w-want to do stuff so I, you know, get the condom and just…I just…damn, I'll just say it, I jerk off thinking about you, Kara, I've already been through two boxes of condoms, I need you just as much, if not more than you need me."

I gaped, unable to find words as I looked blankly into his eyes, his own starting to fill with panic.

"I mean, because you're so absolutely beautiful and touching you is just, it's perfect, and when you kiss me, when you touch me, it makes me crazy." He admitted, chest heaving as he panted, speaking with such desperation his voice, I almost felt like I was the satisfied one. "Oh, God, Kara, please don't tell me I just screwed everything up."

I didn't answer, not with words. Instead, I lifted both hands up to grab his head and bring his lips down to mine in a fiery passion, to which he reciprocated with as much passion. We hadn't kissed like this before, with so much heat, frenzy, need, and God, it felt so good. I let myself fall back on the bed, bringing him down with me. His body fell in between my jean-clad legs comfortably, and his arms held his chest up. Neither of us seemed to care that our hips were connected. I barely registered a growing bulge at my nether region, only his hot tongue meeting mine.

My hands ran up and down his arms, admiring the muscle tone there, squeezing and rubbing, and every now and then, they travelled to greet his pectorals before sliding back up to his shoulders.

His head dipped down to my neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin there, then ducking down further to the exposed skin on my chest, sucking hard and biting, forming a neat, little hickey there, and again a little lower. I felt my nipples harden as his lips edged closer and closer to them, but ever the tease, he stopped moving down, and continued his ministrations of bruising my skin with his supple lips. His hands practically clawed at my jacket, leaving me in a skin tight singlet that, to my extreme delight, seemed to drive the hunger within him.

His laps crashed into mine once again, and I almost didn't notice him grinding into me until he moaned loudly and longingly, hips beginning to rut into mine. His mouth dipped into my neck, biting roughly as he started rutting harder, beginning to hit my clit. I struggled to catch my breath as he rubbed against my covered heat, moving faster with each passing moment.

"Isaac…" I moaned out, trying to get his attention before something else happened, something we might not be ready for despite what our imaginations told us.

"I love it when you moan my name," he groaned out, panting hard.

"No, Isaac, stop," I managed to say, my eyes shut tightly as I enjoyed the sensation of his hardness against me. He stopped though, and my head reeled. He lifted his head at looked at me straight in the eyes, heaving as he did so, a questioning and apologetic mix fluttering across his strong features.

"I'm, I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away," and he lifted a hand to push some flyaway hairs back behind my ear. To my surprise, he wan't flustered, nervous, nor freaking out. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just, I'm not ready," I bit my lip, scared despite knowing I was with the most caring, loving person in the whole world.

"That's okay, I get that." He kissed me, softly this time, before rolling off, re-securing his towel once he did. "Honestly, I don't think I am either."

"Then why didn't you stop?" I hoped my tone didn't sound as accusatory as my words did, but before I could attempt to correct myself, Isaac cut me off.

"Because I think I kind of jumped the line between reality and fantasy." His hand wrapped itself around mine, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. "I think about you a lot, and I want it, anything I can get, like a shit tonne. But I think if I kept going, I would've just, well don't take this the wrong way, but regretted it."

"Do you regret this so far?"

"I regret the first time I came to you with only a towel on was after I was a massive idiot." I laughed, feeling the burning heat in the pit of my stomach that ached to be with the boy slowly diminish.

"You know, it's getting a little late."

"A little."

"I think I should probably head home."

"Will your parents be mad?"

"If I stay out any later? Probably. Won't your dad be mad?"

"I can hear his snoring now, he won't know the difference."

Instead of leaving right away, I let myself fall into his warmth, rejoicing in the fact that I could be in his arms once again. We chatted about this and that, I told him about going shopping with Allison and Lydia, he gave me condolences for my future misfortune, I told him about the homework he needed to get done by tomorrow, and he whined about it, as per usual.

As the minutes ticked by, I ended up helping him with his homework a little - after he replaced his towel with a pair of sweatpants, of course, and no, I didn't look. I didn't want to go home, I wanted to stay with him and talk into the night.

"Hey, um, before you go, I have something for you." He reached over his dresser, past the condoms, to the blue velvet jewellery box I was too distracted to properly pay attention to earlier.

"Oh, Isaac, you didn't have to," I spoke, though the grin on my face made it apparent that I was so glad he did.

"I know, but I wanted to say how much you mean to me, and how glad I am that you're with me. I thought that this would be a good way to show my appreciation of you." He smiled his dorky, lopsided grin that made my heart flutter every time I saw it, and dropped to one knee in front of me. "Kara Moore, will you forgive me for being an ass this week?"

He opened the little box, showcasing a gold necklace with a small blue gemstone, carved into the shape of a dog, and had to hold back my excitement as I let my jaw drop in awe.

"It's, it's beautiful…" I couldn't bring myself to move, simply stare.

"It's um, blue topaz, because I know you love blue, and I know your favourite animal is a dog. I had it specially made, kind of why I have no money…but yeah, I hope you like it."

"I love it so, so much, I, Isaac, it's beautiful, you're beautiful, thank you," he grinned, taking the necklace and fastening it around my neck lovingly.

"I'm glad, the store says it's strictly non-refundable." He laughed, kissing me gently, so much so I wanted more and more.

"But you got beat up because of this…"

"Nah, don't worry about that, I could've given them money, I chose not to." He pecked my cheek, and grabbed my hand. "I'll walk you home, it's late, you shouldn't walk alone."

We snuck past Isaac's father, who was fast asleep on the couch with a bottle of whiskey beside him, and headed out towards my house, our hands firmly holding onto one another's as if we were afraid the other would slip away.

"I'm glad I've got you, Kara."

"And I'm glad I've got you, Isaac."

We kissed longingly on the doorstep, wishing we could stay like that forever, even though we both knew we'd see each other soon. My heart bubbled with happiness, and adoration. I was sure that this boy would be the boy I fell for, and that gave me hope for my future.

* * *

 _Last chapter! If you liked this story and you'd like to read some more,_ _review and let me know and I'll see what I can do._

 _Thanks!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf, nor the characters associated with it. Kara Moore is a fictitious character of my own invention._


	4. Chapter 4

The moon hung low in the navy blue sky, its light dim but not unwanted. The stars freckled the sky in a feeble attempt to brighten the night, but it was still dark, bleary, cold, even for midnight. The wind howled in the distance, coursing through the trees, carrying faded green leaves as it travelled along the night. The clouds were grey and speckled, floating dauntingly over the half moon as though it was trying to stop it from shining.

I felt shivers down my spine, I knew the moon's rays fell on my back, and if I wasn't half asleep, I could swear it was trying to tell me something.

I heard creaking from outside. What could anyone possibly be doing at this hour on a school night? I know some people are alcoholics but come on, surely there are better places to crash. I whined, burying my face deeper in my pillow until I heard the indistinguishable sound of my window opening, the soft friction of wood against wood meeting my ears.

I froze.

I heard a light step of a foot, then another, the carpet dampening the sound to anyone who wasn't listening. My heart thumped in my chest like a drum, and I could feel my body beginning to clam up. Again, the friction sounded in my ears, ringing, but it left me to wonder why a murderous, lowlife, piece of scum would want to close off his means of escaping.

"Kara?" A voice whispered, one that I was more than familiar with. I sat up quickly, snapping my head in the direction of the looming shadow, illuminated by the dull moon, and I knew there was no need to be afraid anymore.

"Isaac?" Needless to say, I wasn't expecting my boyfriend to be sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were some serial killer or something!" I whisper shouted, keeping my blanket securely over my chest, knowing my white pyjama top was extremely see through, despite the fact he probably couldn't see in this light anyway.

"I couldn't come over yesterday to study so I thought I'd come over today." He shrugged, voice low to keep from waking my parents down the hall. His demeanour was so casual, as though it was completely normal to break into someone's house. Maybe it was for him…?

"Isaac, as much as I love seeing you, it's the middle of the night, you just broke into my house, and I'm not about to study now when I'm half asleep." He frowned, considering my words before shrugging once again, and headed for the window to escape home. "No, no, come back, come here."

I patted the spot beside me, relenting to his beautiful puppy eyes.

"I knew you couldn't resist me," he smirked playfully, giving me a quick kiss that left me wanting more, though that was nothing new.

"Shut up, goof," letting myself fall into his warmth as he laid on his back, hands twining together, arms embracing, and my ear pressed up against his heart. "So, what's the real reason you're here?"

"I wanted to see you but my dad only just fell asleep from drinking a bottle of whiskey, and I could only get away once he did." He kissed my forehead, and I felt his cold lips even after they left my skin. "I would've messaged but I still don't have a new phone yet."

"Still?" I cocked an eyebrow, for it had been nearly a week, surely he would have a new phone by now. "How could you live without one? I'm always using my phone."

"Huh," he contemplated, his breath hot on my head, "already? I guess I just don't really need it, I have a watch, an alarm clock, and a calendar, that's all I use it for really. Except for talking to you of course, but I don't know, even then, I'd rather just come see you."

"Well, perhaps you should keep the window surprises to a minimum, I don't want you falling and breaking your neck or something." I gushed, because even though I loved sleeping with him, in the most innocent sense of the word, it was a school night, and most importantly I didn't really want to see him fall off the roof. Or for him to fall off at all.

"I've fallen down the stairs before, is that better or worse?"

"I'm pretty sure falling onto the concrete from a second story window is a lot worse than stairs."

"Oh. I guess, but I think I'd fall into the bushes from here." We were both silent for a few minutes, merely enjoying one another's company and heat, as well as loving the peacefulness that came with the night.

"Does your dad drink a lot?" I asked, hesitating for a moment, unsure whether it was my place to ask such things. In all honesty, it was because I was concerned about it. Often, parents drinking or being alcoholics had severe negative effects on children.

"Yeah, he does. Whenever he's not at work. He only drinks at night though, after dinner. He goes through nearly a bottle every night." Isaac sounded sad, but honestly, not that heartbroken. I wondered if it was my imagination, or if Isaac didn't really care too much about his father.

"I'm sorry." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Nah, don't be. He's been drinking a while now, I'm kind of used to it." I could practically hear the frown in his voice, and I could hear his heart beating faster as soon as I mentioned his father.

"How long?"

"The way he does now? Since my brother died. Before then, he only had a glass or two a week." My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his brother, and I struggled to find the words to say.

"What was his name?" I all but whispered, afraid to break the eerie silence floating between us, afraid to bring up bad memories.

"Camden. Died in Combat." I 'hmm'ed in response, unsure of how to formulate a coherent sentence with all the jumble in my head. "He was an awful brother actually, he was still kind of young though. He picked on me, punched me a lot, and all the usual brother stuff, but I loved him, and I know he loved me. We never spoke about that stuff but I know. I still miss him sometimes."

"There are a lot of photos of him at your house." I mumbled into his chest.

"He was my dad's favourite. My dad used to be the swim coach at Beacon Hills, and my brother was on the team. It was because of Camden that they won so much, he was the captain back then. When he enlisted, dad always spoke of how proud he was to have a son that would serve his country. When I told him I didn't want to enlist, he said that I never had any ambitions."

"Rude."

"Dad can be…rude, I guess, at times. I hope I'm not like him when I have kids." His words were heavy with sadness, and laced with fear. Every time we talked about his dad, or even mentioned him, something was off. I could tell he didn't much like him. "When we buried Camden, dad started drinking a lot more, he got really drunk and told me I'd never amount to anything. Honestly, he was drunk off his ass so I don't think he remembered it. Ever since, he got drunk pretty much every night."

"So…what about your mom?" I hesitated to bring her up, since she didn't seem to be in the picture, I wasn't sure what happened, if she left, if she was never there or there at some point, if she died, if she was in jail, who knew.

"She died giving birth to me." He said it with such remorse but with no hesitation, I took in a sharp breath. I supposed that was probably the worst thing to say for him, but he sounded as though he had accepted it. Did he think it was his fault? "After having Camden, the doctors told her if she got pregnant again, she wouldn't be able to carry the baby to full term, she'd die before she got the chance because her body was too frail to carry again. When she found out about me, she told everyone, she would never give me up so she could live. She showed everyone that she could carry me, but her body gave up on her and died shortly after I was born."

"That's terrible, I'm so sorry…" I didn't know what else to say.

"It's kind of shit. My dad always resented me a little, I think, but he still took care of me. Whenever Camden was angry with me, he'd bring up that I killed mom, it was my fault." I frowned, feeling my eyes watering. How could anyone be so cruel? "It wasn't my fault, my mom chose my life over hers, and I know that. Camden knew that, and so does my dad. Hating me for that would be hating her. I wish I got to know her though, she would've been one of two amazing women in my life."

"Who's the other? Do you have a sister?" I asked stupidly, Isaac laughing and hugging me tighter.

"It's you. Since my mom isn't in my life," he kissed the top of my head, "you are the number one woman in my life, actually number one person, best person ever."

We kissed longingly, enjoying each other's lips, enjoying his hands on my back and waist, enjoying his tongue greeting mine softly and gently, telling me that he was glad for me in his life, that he needed me, that he cared for me. I hoped he understood I felt the same.

"I have something I need to ask you." Isaac spoke, fingers intertwining with my long brown hair.

"Go ahead." I felt my mind slipping away into the enrapturing claws of sleep.

"Will you be my date for the formal?" I giggled, muffling myself in his chest.

"I thought I already was."

* * *

"Is this a twenty-four hour Macy's?" I heard the boy with the buzz cut named Stiles say to Lydia as she piled dress after dress on his open arms. Oddly enough, I think he was her date? She simply ignored him after passing me a variety of dresses to try.

"Now, Kara, I know your fashionably disabled, but if you want your boy toy to drool over you, while dreaming of how absolutely sexy you are, you need to compromise with me." I nodded at Lydia, though she wasn't even looking at me. Stiles was panting behind us, knocking into various trolleys, racks, stands and mannequins. "Now, you seem to like black, judging by the black jeans, black coat and black boots, but you cannot, I repeat, cannot wear black."

"Why not?" I asked meekly, feeling a little intimidated by this obviously gorgeous girl talking to me. She'd never said a word to me before, but I got the feeling Allison told her to play nice.

"Look, I'm doing you a favour, you should be grateful." She flicked her bright orange hair over her shoulder, picking up an emerald green dress and dropping it on my pile of clothes. "This is a formal, a dream night, where you're supposed to look sexy, hot, and make every guy who's not already looking at me drop to their knees for you. Black dresses are for professional evenings, and should only be worn if they emphasise your breasts. You're kind of tanned, you've got warm skin, you cannot wear any pastels, or lights, it'll just get washed out."

To be honest, I wasn't actually sure I understood what she was saying…and Stiles seemed to understand even less than me if his gaping mouth and squinted eyes were anything to go by.

"So, obviously bright just isn't your thing." She commented holding up a pink dress by my side. "Huh, you know, medium to dark blues and purples are so your thing, let's go get more of those."

"I'm not sure my arms can hold any more dresses…" I muttered to Stiles as Lydia walked on ahead.

"No kidding, I can't even see over my pile."

After about five more dresses, Lydia and I left for the change rooms, while Stiles stood outside on one of the complimentary "boyfriend slash pack mule" chairs, waiting for Allison to show up.

I think there were about five different shades of purple, four blues, two whites, a red, and three greens. I had no words. They were all gorgeous and completely out of my price range of five dollars, but my mom insisted I take her credit card and buy something fun, beautiful, and breath taking. I was pretty sure she was more excited for the formal than me. Or even Isaac. That being said, it'd be the first time I had the pleasure of seeing Isaac in a suit, and I knew he'd be more that sex-worthy.

Lydia had already narrowed her choices down to three by the time I managed to get one dress on, which she immediately said 'no' to. Same with the next three dresses. The whites and reds were already gone.

I tried on a green dress and stepped out to see Lydia in a red one, who spoke up as she saw me.

"Ooh, that one's nice," she smiled, although it seemed a little condescending as she did. "I like it."

It flowed down to the ground, feeling exceptionally elegant.

"I don't know, I feel a little like a leprechaun." I pouted.

"Put it in the 'maybe' pile." She ordered. Allison had joined us, but shook her head as soon as she saw me.

"You look like a leprechaun." She bit her lip, refraining from laughing. I grumbled as I tried on the next dress, immediately steering clear of all the green dresses. I tried on a blue dress, only to have that knocked back because it looked 'too flat' on me, so I decided to not try any of the rest of the blues. I was left with purple, praying to some merciful overlord that one of those dresses made me look like a goddess. Turned out, two were thrown into the 'maybe' pile, but the third, I honestly fell in love with it as soon as I squeezed into it.

It was a deep magenta type purple, or plum I think Lydia called it insistently. It hooped around my neck and wrapped tightly around my chest and waist, flowing out in layers. A silver trim decorated the waist, and it fell comfortably to my knees. It was expensive, but the fashionista told me if I didn't buy it, she wouldn't help me find shoes, and well, I don't know how to shop for shoes either. Allison mentioned that a certain curly haired boy would lose his mind when he saw me, and I couldn't help but blush at the prospect.

It took a while, but we eventually all found a pair of shoes. A sparkly pair of open-toed, silver heels, strappy straps that wrapped around my ankles, and a severe need to practice wearing these before I even try to dance in them.

"Do you have makeup?" Lydia asked me, eyes wide, mouth hardened into a straight line. I looked over at Allison who merely pursed her lips as if to tell me there was no way of getting out of it. I sighed, before answering with a shake of the head. "Good. Makeup shopping is so much fun. Don't worry, I'll come over and help you apply it, you'll need to learn quickly though."

Stiles seemed to be crying on the inside as he carried all of our bags behind us. Lydia practically ordered him into doing it with as few words as possible.

"My feet hurt." He whined. I nodded.

"Mine, too."

Lydia just about chose everything for me, while Allison wandered around, looking at lipsticks. My hand was decorated with different shades of lipsticks, eyeliners, eyeshadows, foundations, concealers, eyebrow pencils, lip liners, seriously, how could anyone buy so much of this?

"Okay, you're tanned but not that dark so this shade is perfect for you, this is the absolute best contour kit in the entire world, this sangria shade will perfectly match your dress, and its also a really comfy lipstick to wear, this is the only liquid eyeliner anyone can ever buy, these brushes are all anyone ever needs, this eyebrow kit is best for your brows, and this blush will look best on your skin. Oh, and if you don't use this setting spray, you'll regret your entire life? Happy? Good."

I took a deep breath, not entirely sure how to use any of this stuff, but Lydia reassured me that she'd show me how tonight, and I'd keep practicing the rest of the week so I knew how to apply everything on the list flawlessly. I was in big trouble…and I'd be in even more trouble once my mom found out how much this eyeliner cost alone, forget everything else.

At the very least, the red head bought me a nice perfume. She said I behaved well…

* * *

"You spent seven hundred dollars…" My father gaped as my mother rummaged through my bags, ooh-ing and aw-ing every five seconds. "What could possibly cost - my Lord, you're just like your mother…"

I supposed he was used to that kind of spending from my mom since he walked over to the liquor cabinet and took out one of his more expensive bottles of whiskey, filling a glass before heading to his office.

"This dress is gorgeous! I must meet this Lydia, she certainly knows her way around a dress." Mom grinned, holding the dress up to my body, nodding with a knowing smile. "Isaac will see you in this, and he'll go crazy - hopefully not too crazy though. Be responsible."

I rolled my eyes, mom will be mom. "Lydia and Allison are coming over tomorrow, they're going to help me learn makeup, and stuff. Do you think you could help me a little?"

If anyone ever thought that college professors were grumpy, rude tight asses, mom proved them that you can be a beautiful fashionista with two hundred different dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, and teach the most fascinating history classes. I used to think that history was boring until mom sat me down and went through my class assignments with me, explaining heaps of different parts of history while actually making it interesting. I try to teach Isaac the same way, but mom has it down to a fine art. Even Isaac enjoys history, all because of her.

On the flip side, she could easily spend five hundred dollars on a small shopping trip. Small. She loves her fashion, trends, makeup, perfumes, hair treatments, and she's tried to hustle me into shopping with her a lot, and tried teaching me about makeup, but I'd never been interested. I'm still not totally interested now, but I'd kind of like to not look like a washed out, ugly loser. Regardless of the fact, my mom's eyes lit up when I asked her that question in a way they hadn't done in a long time.

"It'd be my honour."

Now, if mom wasn't a history teacher, she'd either be a model, or a makeup artist. She showed me so much in the space of one hour without making my brain turn to mush. I still needed practice since my winged eyeliner looked more like fried chicken wings, and my lipstick application seemed to be more on my skin than my lips, but if I were to be honest, it wasn't that bad.

It was kind of not fantastic, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't so awful that I'd feel bad about having to do this every morning until the formal.

* * *

"Oh, my Gosh, your face doesn't look totally awful." Lydia pursed her, inspecting my makeup carefully. "I mean, you should totally ease up on the eyeliner, you look like a racoon, your mascara looks shaky, and you haven't blended your contour properly, but at least your coverage is acceptable. And nice call with the lip balm, wearing the lipstick today would totally not match your outfit."

"Yeah, my mom lent me one of her lip balms, said it would look nicer." I nodded, pushing my hair out of my face. Lydia scared the crap out of me, but she was actually really helpful. In a condescending, bitchy way, but it was refreshing.

"Just a bit more practice, and you'll be able to do your makeup in a car in ten minutes." Allison spoke up as the three of us walked to our lockers.

"Don't ever do that. By the way." Lydia warned. "If you do that, I'll revamp your whole wardrobe and throw out everything you own."

"Sure." I pouted, unsure of whether or not I was actually allowed to talk.

"You know, that'll be so much fun, we should totally revamp your wardrobe." Lydia smiled in a 'no-nonsense' kind of way, as if she wasn't asking, telling me that I should expect some major wardrobe redesigns. "We'll all go shopping together after the dance, it'll be fun."

Her hair swished as she stalked off, heels clicking on the hard floor and hips shaking in an almost Shakira fashion.

"I have no choice, do I?" I whined, looking at Allison with hope.

"Sorry, I would've warned you but, well I didn't think she'd be so receptive to you, she's kind of…"

"Selective?"

"Yeah, sorry." I chuckled amicably.

"No, no, that's okay, I guess I don't really mind being a side project for Lydia Martin." We laughed together as we followed Lydia into chemistry. As usual, I sat down next to Isaac, who greeted me with a confused expression, eyebrow raised and bottom lip jutting.

"Something's different about you." He grabbed my hand comfortably after I settled in, waiting for the start of class.

"Hello to you, too." I stuck my tongue out playfully. "I'm wearing makeup today, I need to 'practice' for the dance this Friday."

"Hi. And no, it's not that, there's something else." He leaned back in contemplation, examining me with his eyes. If he was anything like me, he's taking off my clothes in his head. That's genuinely what I'm trying very hard not to do right now. Seriously, he's sexy as all hell, who wouldn't want to?

"Really now?"

"Beautiful as always," he smiled lopsidedly, "but I think, Kara Moore, you look happy."

I couldn't help but laugh at his comment, it just seemed so silly. "I'm happy? Of course I'm happy, I have you."

"It's more than that." He rested his chin in his hand. "It's because you've got friends, not just me, but two genuine friends."

I didn't have more time to respond, Mr Harris walked in and commenced class, but I knew one thing, and that was that Isaac Lahey, could not be anymore perfect.

* * *

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf_

 _Thank you to everyone who followed and favourited this story and me, I'll be adding a few more chapters to this story. Please leave reviews, even if you think it's nothing, I'd love to hear from you all! You're all wonderful, and your_ _reviews, favourites and follows light up my day! Much love!_


	5. Chapter 5

I felt the tightening around my torso, lifting my chest and cinching my waist as the plum coloured dress flowed gracefully over my hips, showing a teaser tidbit of my smooth legs, heightened by a strappy, silver pair of heels that made me feel taller than a giant. My usually flat, boring hair was brought to life by Lydia, curled and pinned, bouncing in waves down my open back. I did almost all my makeup alone, but my orange haired companion insisted on doing my eyeliner so I could look as perfect as possible for tonight.

I couldn't believe it, I was going to a dance. With an actual boy. The perfect boy. I dreamed of this night for years, I was a sappy romantic. I dreamed I'd be beautiful, like a Disney princess, a handsome young man to dance with who I couldn't get over, even if I tried. I dreamed of being whisked across the dance floor, swept up in his arms, kissing like we were the only ones in the world, and I could almost cry. But then Lydia would get angry at me for ruining my makeup.

"You know, you actually look gorgeous." Her lips pursed as she eyed me up and down, like a mannequin on display at a shop. She then smiled, perhaps the most sincere smile I'd ever seen her wear, her wide eyes showing more pride than anything. "Your boy toy won't know what hit him."

"Thank you, Lydia, I couldn't have done any of this without you." I refrained from biting my lip, and ruining my lipstick. I'd surely get thrown out of my own house for that.

"Of course not, you're a fashion disaster. But don't you worry, I'll fix that up next week, shopping, after school." I laughed, knowing I wouldn't escape her clutches now. The doorbell rung, indicating one or both our dates.

Allison got picked up at her place, she decided that since she was going with Jackson, she shouldn't be escorted alongside Jackson's ex-girlfriend, who happened to be her best friend. In any case, Lydia thought I was a basket case who needed as much help as possible, so Stiles would be picking her up here.

"Quickly, you need some jewellery." Lydia huffed, while I heard my parents opening the door, two young voices heard inside. I guessed both Isaac and Stiles had arrived around the same time.

"I have some. I'll be wearing this." I picked up the little blue, carved dog charm that Isaac had gifted me with, feeling a sense of pride knowing that my boyfriend knew me so well.

"Um. No you won't, it clashes with your dress. And what about rings, and earrings, and bracelets? Come on, you have to work with me."

"No, I need to wear this, Isaac gave it to me." I insisted, and before I knew it, I was having a stare down with the queen bee. What did I just get myself into? But I did not back down, I would wear this necklace until the day I died, and not even the almighty Lydia Martin could stop me.

"Fine, fine, you can wear the stupid necklace, but please tell me you have something else." She huffed, my eyes going everywhere but to hers. I had some crappy old stuff that people gave me as gifts when I was a little girl but they quickly realised I'm not the jewellery type. "What about your mom?"

Speak of the devil, and she shall knock at your door. "Girls, your dates are downstairs, are you decent?"

"Come in, mom." She opened the door, gasping as she looked between us, throwing her arms around me.

"Sweetie, I've never seen you so done up, it suits you, you look amazing!" She then threw her arms around Lydia. "And Lydia, darling, you've managed to make her do this after only a month! It took me years of nothing, you're welcome here anytime you like!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Moore." Lydia perked up, loving the attention she was getting. "And, oh, my Gosh, those shoes are to die for! If only your daughter had the same fashion sense you do."

"If only, but that's okay, it only makes this moment all the sweeter." They laughed together, which was rather odd to see, as Lydia had never acted like this before in front of me. I wondered if it was because she was faking it, or she got along with my mom better than she did with me. Both seemed likely, if I were honest.

"Speaking of which, do you have some jewellery she can borrow? All she has is that necklace and the studs in her ears." She pursed, looking at me with disappointment.

"Of course I do, let me go get a few things, I know exactly what you need!" Mom hurried off down the hall to her room, and I could hear her rummaging through her draws. I could also hear the ebbing silence downstairs, feeling sorry for the two boys standing before my angry father.

"Your mom is so awesome."

"I know."

A minute later, mom reappeared with some silver bracelets, silver hoops, and varying decorative rings, as well as a small lavender clutch.

"Now, I know you want to keep everything simply, so I just matched these to your necklace, and of course, you can't go anywhere without a bag. This one is one of my favourites, I love this little thing, so don't you lose it." After donning all the silver, I felt rather heavy, but mom quickly ushered us downstairs to see our 'handsome dates'.

Lydia pouted as she stood beside Stiles, obviously disappointed that Allison had roped her into this.

"Wow, Lydia, you look, you look, so wow…" Stiles gaped, it was quite funny.

"I know." She looked at her pristine, painted nails in attempt to ignore him. "See you there, Kara."

She waved, leading Stiles out the door, my mom actually looking upset she had to leave. "You should have Lydia over more often." She spoke, before grabbing a camera.

"Kara," Isaac spoke quietly, and I was sure I was the only one who could hear. He looked even better than I could ever imagine, a sleek, black tux, fitting perfectly to his fit body, a plum coloured tie - of which I was sure Lydia chose for him - over a crisp white button up, and a black vest under a well taken care of blazer. His neat pants sat perfectly on his long legs. He was still very tall, with my heels, I only came up to his nose where I usually only meet him at his chin. So much for 'giant'. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his body into mine, relishing in the feel and shape of him, of his arms snaking around my waist, pulling me in tighter.

"Isaac, you look amazing," I whispered in his ear.

"You look better," he whispered back, cautious of my parents listening, "remember when we talked about our fantasies that one time? Mine are going crazy."

"Mine, too." We separated, neither of us quite sure of what to say.

"I got you something,"

"You shouldn't have," I spoke, as he pulled a brown box from his pocket.

"I couldn't not," he chuckled, opening it before me, a beautiful arrangement of purple and blue flowers, forming a corsage. "From what I hear, it's traditional."

"Thank you," was all I could say. I couldn't argue, he was just perfect, even the way he slipped it on my wrist was perfect. How can you be mad or upset when your boyfriend makes everything so difficult to get upset over?

"Alrighty, love birds, it's time for a photo!" Mom interrupted our moment, her little digital camera glinting in the light. We posed as per the cute, cheesy rituals, and I gave him my keys so he could escort us to the dance. He didn't have a car, but he still wanted to pick me so I compromised with him.

"I'm sorry about my mom, she's really excited about all this," I apologised as he backed out of the driveway.

"Nah, it's okay, I am, too." He grinned, keeping his eyes forward as he drove us to the school. We stopped beside an old blue Jeep, watching all the other students walk inside the building, dressed up fancifully, some jumping in excitement, others collecting in big groups.

"I can't believe this all," I held his hand, looking at his bright, blue eyes. "We're actually here."

"And while we have this moment, I want to emphasise how sexy you are right now." I felt my face heat up, but I couldn't resist.

"And on that note," I slipped my hand onto his thigh, inching higher up and further in, watching his eyes widen and his face blush, "so are you."

"I, I, um, uh, you should, I," he closed his eyes, trying to compose himself, "stay right there."

He jumped out of the car, running around to my side, opening the door and helping me out.

"If you keep doing things like that, I might just take you to a closet somewhere instead of the dance." We laughed together, arm in arm as we walked up to the dance.

I wasn't really sure what I was expecting, I knew I'd never been to a dance, and that people danced at dances, but any more than that, well, I couldn't say. There was a band singing some pretty nice songs, a disco ball reflecting, punch, drapes with stars on them, strobe lights. By the time we were inside, Lydia was sitting at a table looking uncomfortable next to a disappointed Stiles, I could see Allison standing awkwardly beside Jackson and two other boys who were spiking their drinks with vodka, I spotted Scott hiding in the bleachers, watching Allison. Why couldn't everyone be happy together? I wished they could.

"Punch?" Isaac offered me a cup of the pink substance.

"It's not spiked, is it?" I took a sip, deciding there probably wasn't any additional ingredients in it, gulping it down in a hurry.

"You must be nervous." Isaac grinned, refilling my cup. "I swear I don't bite."

"I know, it's just, well, yes, I'm nervous, I just," I sipped a little from my cup, staring into Isaac's gorgeous blue eyes, "I've always wished to go to a fancy formal with a handsome boy and dance the night away with him."

"Sorry to disappoint," Isaac smiled, placing our cups down, before grabbing my hands, pulling me into his arms onto the dance floor.

"No, this is everything I've ever wanted," I started, wrapping my arms around his neck, his own wrapping around my waist, "you're everything I've ever wanted."

I wasn't sure how long we danced for, but I saw Lydia dancing with Stiles, smiling as she did, and Allison dancing with Scott, dancing or kissing, I wasn't sure.

All that mattered was my blond beau, whose body was pushing against mine sensually, hands occasionally dropping down to the flat of my back like he wanted to drop down further but hesitated. My nose nuzzled his neck, his lips kissed my head, our bodies swayed to the slow, romantic music for what felt like only seconds, but also hours.

"Kara?"

"Mm?" I lifted my head to look him in the eyes, but was shocked to find his lips on mine, greeting mine as if we'd been apart for years. Sometimes, it felt that way. All at once, I felt my breath disappear, my heart skipping beats, my fingers knotting in his hair, his hand on my hip, my chest pressing hard against his and the need for us to be closer. "Oh…"

"Your lipstick is smudged, sorry," he smiled, nose rubbing against mine.

"It's okay, you've got lipstick on you though," I laughed quietly.

"Maybe we should go somewhere to clean that up," and with that, we were sneaking off to a far off toilet cubicle, and as soon as we were there, we were interconnected once again.

He picked me up, sitting me on the bench between the sinks, my legs wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer to me, tighter. His hands moved from my waist to my thighs, leaving white marks in their wake as he kneaded the soft flesh there. I pushed off his crisp black jacket, with some aid from him, falling in a heap on the floor, my hands smoothing over his thin white shirt.

His lips parted from mine, and found solace instead on my neck, kissing, biting, sucking, just light enough to not leave any marks, "Isaac,"

"Mm, I love when you say my name," his hands ghosted up my waist, settling just beneath my breasts, "may I?"

"Please," It felt like I'd been holding my breath for a thousand years, and only just tasted sweet air for the first time when his hands pressed ever so softly over my breasts, as if he were afraid to hurt me. Nevertheless, I'd never been touched like this, and wow, did it feel damn good…

"Is this okay?" He questioned hesitantly.

"Of course," I breathed, "you're not hurting me at all, I promise."

His hands squeezed experimentally. I knew he'd never been with anyone either, so everything was just as new to him as it was me. He squeezed again, a little harder this time, and I let slip an embarrassing moan.

"Like that, huh?"

"Shush, just keep doing that." I blushed, hearing him snicker as he continued ministrations on my chest and my neck.

"With pleasure, my darling." His large hands cupped my breasts, and his breath was hot on my exposed skin, leaving the rest of me shimmeringly cold, but that didn't matter. I was with Isaac, he was showing his appreciation for me in a way I never thought actually possible, despite how much I wanted it. I always dreamed Isaac would want me, and it felt all to surreal, it couldn't actually be happening - except it was, and I loved every second.

His experimenting would have to wait, much to my dismay, and from the looks of it, I wasn't the only one who felt so disappointed. The sirens echoed over the loud vibrations from the hall where the dance was held, interrupting the evening.

"Maybe, we should go…" I spoke, wishing I didn't have to utter a word, but my partner in crime agreed with me. We could see the blue and red lights filtering through the upper windows of the bathroom.

Although it took a while for us to realise what exactly was going on, we heard that someone got attacked, word was it was Lydia. Her ex-boyfriend, Jackson Whittemore, was seen carrying her limp body back up to the hall from the lacrosse field, and she was covered in blood, completely unresponsive. I felt my stomach drop when I heard it; Lydia didn't deserve that at all. Despite being confronting, and remarkably terrifying, she was a genuinely good person. Granted, I didn't know her as well as Allison, or Stiles, or Jackson, but she had a good heart. I should see her in hospital, I knew that, and I probably would, even if she wouldn't really want me there.

Some people were saying it was Jackson who attacked her because she cheated on him. Others said he was jealous. Some were saying it was another mountain lion, sickly and aggressive. I heard one person say that they saw Derek Hale off in the distance, and it was probably him since he was ' _totally a psycho murderer_ ', though it could've been Coach Finstock. I heard that her date, Stiles, was no where to be seen, perhaps he was the assailant, or another victim. Speculations, rumours, lies, slurs, none really seemed to be accurate.

I'm not an idiot, this town has seen some weird, inexplicable shit, and mountain lions didn't really excuse most of it. I hardly believe that a mountain lion attacked Lydia.

"We should probably get going, you know, before your parents worry." Isaac's hand found mine, his thumb rubbing soft circles on my skin. "I really don't want them to panic and never let you see me again."

The part of my brain that would respond with some semblance of words, sounds, a noise of agreement, seemed unresponsive, but I think Isaac just got it, got me. He tugged me towards the car, holding my keys firmly in his hand as he helped me in. When he sat in beside me, he turned to me with the most pain filled expression I've ever seen him wear.

"Kara, are…are you okay?" His brow furrowed, his eyes sunk low in their sockets, his usually bright, gorgeous blue eyes were dim, void of bubbly joy. His lips were turned down at the corners, dropped slightly, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips cautiously.

"Um, I-I don't know." I really didn't, I felt like I was floating, but not in a good, happy-go-lucky way, more like I was watching myself, responding to myself being lifeless. I couldn't really _feel_ anything, just a numbness, an excruciating numbness. What if Lydia died? This gorgeous, intelligent, perky, red head didn't make it? She'd be gone. I liked Lydia, I didn't think I could handle knowing that after everything she did for me in such short amount of time, without hesitation, I would never get to tell or show her how much I truly appreciated her efforts, her time, her devotion. I'd be losing a potentially amazing friend before I got a chance to really get to know her. But where did I get off saying things like that? What gives me the right to say that? Why should I be so dramatic? There would be others who would be much more affected by this than I would, her parents, Allison, Jackson, Stiles, to name a few. People who had known her for years, who had raised her, who had been in love with her, who became her best friend, where I was nothing to her, and in comparison, she was just the ever-popular, Lydia Martin, on an unattainable pedestal. "I guess, I just feel…scared…I don't want her to die, what if she does? She gave me so much, and I gave her nothing…but then I think, in the end, she probably doesn't really care about me, and…and I have no right to feel so upset when there are others who were so much closer to her than me, and-"

"Woah, woah, hold up a sec, Kara," Isaac's hand glided over my cheek, behind my neck, curling into the hair that dangled freely, pulling slightly on what was pinned up after hours of precision and care. His honey voice greeted my welcoming ears, like every other day I ached to see him, hear him, feel him. "You're talking like she's already gone, and I mean, I'm not close with her, she probably wouldn't even notice me if not for you, but like, we both know that Lydia can't be taken down that easily, she's the bitchiest, smartest, persistent, most stubborn person I know, and I don't know about you, but in my experience, people like her don't go down without a fight. She's not giving in, and you shouldn't either. Don't give up on her yet, and I promise you, this time next week, she'll be dragging you to the mall again because your boots don't match your outfit."

I giggled slightly, not realising I had warm tears falling from my eyes until his gentle hands wiped them from my cheeks.

"Thank you…" I whispered. His warm lips met my cheek softly, and he smiled his lopsided smile, charming me gracefully into a genuine smile of my own.

"Don't mention it, I'd do anything for the most beautiful, most compassionate, most kindest,-"

"-Most kind,"

"Most wonderful girl in the world." As he drove me home, he barely let go of my hand. Ordinarily, I'd be worried he was paying more attention to me than the road, but I couldn't find it in me to care when the love of my life was showering me in affection.

Love of my life?

Wait, what?

Isaac? The love of my life?

Well, after all this time, undeniably.

* * *

On Sunday, I went and saw Lydia in hospital with customary flowers and card, as well as a cute item of jewellery my mom helped me pick out, I hoped she'd appreciate the gesture if not the bracelet, however Lydia was not the type.

She smiled quite genuinely when she opened it, thanking me and letting me hug her, though, only because the bracelet was cute, and I managed an acceptable outfit with nice heeled boots. I didn't mention I only wore the outfit because I knew she'd appreciate that just as much, and I'd probably only ever wear it when she was around to see it.

On the bright side, she had recovered fairly well, though the pain sometimes won out. She wouldn't be discharged for another day at least, depending on how she fairs tomorrow, and even then, the doctors wanted to take precautionary methods, as did her parents.

Stiles was sleeping on the chairs outside her room, probably dreaming about how beautiful Lydia is. A frizzy haired nurse told me he'd been there all weekend. I wasn't surprised.

I was surprised, however, to find out the very next day that Lydia had "escaped" the hospital, butt naked and was probably running around the woods, potentially suffering hypothermia. Isaac and I joined a search party to help find her but had no luck, knowing we had school the next day, and Isaac's father would not be happy if he wasn't home at a reasonable hour.

Tuesday went by just as uneventfully as Monday, Lydia was still missing, and I could feel Allison and Stiles becoming more depressed with each hour. Particularly Stiles. Like, I swear, you could feel it across the room, it was kind of sad and at the same time, incredibly admirable.

"I'll see you tomorrow, I got to get home, then I got work. Last minute thing." Isaac's lips graced mine with their touch, before departing in such sweet sorrow.

"Do you have to? Can't we just run away together?" I whined, tugging his hands lightly and he chuckled, an amused and slightly serious look crossing his God-like features.

"Don't tempt me, I just might." He bit his lip, and I couldn't resist sneaking another kiss before he was off, swinging his leg over his bike and pedalling away in haste.

"Damn, I should ask him more often," I mumbled to myself. I waved to Allison, Stiles, and Scott in the distance, who stood around a blue Jeep I was lead to believe belonged to Stiles, before jumping in my own car. As per usual, I arrived at an empty house, void of any life - we should get a dog - fixed myself a sandwich, and started on my homework.

It didn't take long for me to realise that I had one of Isaac's books, an important one, chemistry. He definitely need that. I idly glanced over his work, making sure I didn't miss anything. Often, Isaac lent me his work so I could correct it, and determine where he was weakest for future tutoring. It benefitted the both of us, unless of course, I forgot to give him his book back. I quickly glanced at my phone. Dead. Damn it.

I could drive it up to him, he'd need it before tomorrow if expected to do any homework between now and work…but what if he didn't like that?

Wait, haven't I had this argument with myself before? Yes, yes I have. Sighing in defeat, I gathered my books into a neat pile, grabbed my keys and Isaac's workbook before skipping down the stairs, out the door, into the car. I felt my heart thumping in my chest at the thought of going to his house again, I'd only been once, and that was kind of terrifying. Was it bad that I hated my boyfriend's house, not for its shambled aesthetics, but for its intimidating physical presence? Once I arrived, I felt the pit of my stomach start to react, and maybe that should've been my first clue.

Walking up the pathway to the front door should've been my second, especially when I heard the crash. The shadow loomed past the window, it was getting dark out so I wasn't sure if it saw me, but if it did, it gave me no indication.

Another crash, followed by yelling.

I stepped closer, starting to wish I'd brought a jacket as I approached the yelling, slowly becoming decipherable words.

" _It's your fault! You shoulda known better, you pathetic piece of crap!_ " I was stunned. I recognised the voice as belonging to Mr. Lahey. I stopped closer, hearing another voice respond with a tremble.

" _I'm sorry, I-I didn't, please don't, it was an accident, p-please!_ " Isaac.

My heart thumped so fast and so hard, I wasn't actually sure I could hear anything else around me, except the voices. My feet found their way to the window, and in that instance, I felt my whole world collapsing, breaking down around me. My heart shattered as I watched the scene unfolding before me. My fingers tightened around the book I clutched to my chest. The world, my world, was dark and tainted by his screams, his pleas for mercy. I doubted anything could make me feel worse than this moment. I hadn't even realised I could possibly feel like this, but it tustve been nothing compared to what he was feeling right now.

Mr. Lahey swung his arm back, his knuckles colliding with Isaac's eye sickeningly, raw and red, splotching his pale skin. His blue eyes were now a lifeless grey, and his lip bust open slightly, probably having caught a ring or nail, the tailed of the swinging back fist.

"Now, ya stupid boy," Mr. Lahey spat at his broken son, "look what ya made me do. I'm gonna hafta punish ya, ya know that, right?" He grabbed a fistful of Isaac's hair, and pulled him along, forcing the bruised and battered boy to follow wherever he wished.

I felt sick, and I didn't know what to do.

I grabbed at my phone, intent on calling the police before realising my phone was dead when I was met with a black screen. I couldn't very well walk on in there, what if Mr. Lahey attacked me, too? I needed to get to the police, they would do something about this. A man physically, mentally, and emotionally abusing his sixteen year old son, that was bound to capture their attention, even with a sixteen year old naked girl running through the woods at risk of dying from hypothermia.

My car. I needed to get to the police. My car would get me there. If I went to the police, I could save Isaac. That would be ideal, yes, saving Isaac from his abusive father. I nearly ran to my car, jumping in and starting the engine in a haste, nearly forgetting to put the lights on, watching as the sky opened up above me, bringing torrential rain down around me - just my luck.

I spared a thought for Lydia, that she'd be caught up in this weather, hoping that she was far enough away from here that it wouldn't bother her.

Mostly, I thought about all the times Isaac had come to school with cuts and bruises, from lacrosse or more recently discovered, from the band of hooligans that bullied him every night for his money - I gathered fairly fast that there was no gang stealing his money, probably just his father, his thoroughly abusive father.

How had I not seen it before? He hated talking about his last living relative, his told me about the man's drinking habits, how he was never the favourite, how it was all his fault that his mother died in his father's eyes, why something was just so wrong when he told he that cover story, the way he flinched or recoiled whenever his father was brought up in conversation…I'm such an imbecile, I don't deserve Isaac. He deserves better than me, someone who could actually help. But was I not helping now? In aiding to have the brutal man arrested? Surely…

The rain got heavier as I passed along onto the winding, wood surrounded roads on the way to the station, the clouds darker, and my fear still bubbled dangerously. The music was too peppy, it needed to be shut off. I quickly flit my eyes downwards to turn off the cheerful music, and looked up again to see a crouched figure on the road, a figure I was alarmingly close to running over if not for my quick swerving. Perhaps, if it wasn't so wet and slippery, I would've been fine, and the world wouldn't be spinning in slow motion as my life flashed before my eyes. Perhaps, if I was paying closer attention, I would've been able to stop safely in time, but the car moved of its own accord as it tumbled over like a basketball.

Very atypically, my life didn't flash before my eyes, and instead, Isaac did. I needed to tell the police about Isaac. I needed to save Isaac. Isaac is hurt. He needs saving.

And then, the world went dark.

* * *

 _Thanks to georgiaLOVESturtles, animelover78861, DJDragon1, Eyessettokill92, blahblahblah593, infinity box, imwiththeband69, Angel-Peyr, noemi-fin, RaysonInTheSun, hplover1616 for favouriting and following!_

 _Special thanks to Aria, infinity box, burnthebook for reviewing!_

 _Because of ALL of you, I managed to finish this. Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter, but I can't wait to show you guys the finale. As always please review, those really keep me going, I'd love any feedback. I love you all!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf._


	6. Chapter 6

I wasn't quite sure what was happening, all I knew was that I was sitting in a small, grassy clearing in the reserve. There wasn't much grass, it spat out stubbornly to grow like weeds, pushing through the fallen leaves. Sunlight poured through the trees, speckling the ground with patches of light, warmth radiating from its touch. There was no wind, the air was still, no breeze tickling the branches, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead, it was just so much easier to breathe.

 _And then, the world went dark._

"Guess who?" An unmistakable soft, honey voice flooded my ears, my brain, and my heart.

"Isaac," I groaned, a grin made its way onto my lips without my noticing, as I swatted the offending hands away. The boy in question appeared in my line of sight, wearing his signature lopsided, toothy grin. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" He held his grin, but tilted his head in confusion. "I told you, we came here for a picnic."

Was I always sitting on a checkered blanket? Was there always a woven basket beside me? Huh.

"Sorry, I-I guess I just blacked out or something." I shook my head, looking down at my hands.

"Are you okay?" His voice pulled my eyes up to his own ones, though they weren't the same. His once bright blue eyes were dark and grey, sunken and hollow. His pale skin was void of life, and his left eye was surrounded by blue and purple, bruising painfully. His lips were thin and pale instead of smiling and red, with a bleeding cut beginning to swell. All of a sudden, his once joyful demeanour was replaced by a thin, broken one. Tears flooded his eyes as they poured out down his sallow cheeks.

"Oh, oh, my God, Isaac!" I cried, reaching out to grab him, pull him into me and comfort him, but to no avail. He was just out of my reach, and no matter how close I got, he always was. I shuffled closer, and he was always too far away, never within my reach, always staring at me with his lifeless, pleading eyes.

"Kara, help me!" He screamed, his hand shooting out to grab mine, with as much luck as I had.

"I'm trying!" I was frozen, unable to move a muscle, when Mr. Lahey came out from nowhere, grabbing his son by his hair, and pulling him away, stealing him, taking him from me. I was powerless, weak, and I could hear Isaac's screams for help.

Harsh beeps entered this horrid world, rapidly overtaking the sound of Isaac's pleas for me to do something, anything.

"Kara!" My name echoed, the last thing I heard among the beeping.

And again, the world went dark.

I struggled to breathe, my lungs just couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. But my ears worked perfectly well, people talking loudly around me, some making orders, some asking what's wrong, footsteps reverberated hollowly among the voices.

A soft feminine voice reached me, it was unfamiliar, but warm.

"Kara, it's okay," she spoke. "You're safe here, don't worry. You don't need to wake up right away, but you do need to calm down."

Was she an angel? She must've been. My eyes fluttered open, greeting the angel above me. She didn't much look like an angel, but who was I to say who is and isn't a holy being. Her hair was frizzy, tied back into a bun, or ponytail, I couldn't really tell from here. And her eyes were warm, doe-like eyes, that spoke volumes. She was tanned, and her smile was peaceful. She was the last thing I saw before letting the darkness pull me back in, my eyes fluttering closed once more.

* * *

"She'll be okay, Mrs. Moore," a perky voice rung out.

"Yeah, if anyone can handle Lydia's makeover, they can handle this." Another voice, softer, more kind, her words causing a small rupture of half-hearted laughter.

"You're right, girls," a much more mature voice spoke, "she'll be fine."

"You know, you girls don't have to stay here, we'll look after her." A man's voice now came into the picture. There was some shuffling before the perky voice spoke out again.

"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Moore, we were thinking the same thing." The sound of high heels got louder. Or were they getting closer? "You still need to work, and Scott's mom is pretty much always here, and we've been coming here after school every day. Why don't you relax, go back to work, and we'll look after Kara when you're not here?"

"Oh, Lydia, Allison, we couldn't ask such a thing!" The woman's voice responded in haste.

"Of course you can, because we care about Kara, too, and we won't leave her alone if we can hep it." The soft, gentle voice came out. I knew these voices, and I wasn't sure why. They were so familiar. And those names…Lydia, Allison, Moore? It was like lightbulb moment clicked above my head.

Lydia and Allison, my friends at school…and Moore, my parents…how could I forget?

"We'll wait for her to wake up, just like she waited for me." Lydia said with conviction and pride, a voice I knew to be her 'no arguing' voice. Not that she didn't always have that kind of voice but this one in particular was absolutely, no nonsense.

"She's supposed to have waken by now," I heard my mother speak sadly, a shiver to her voice that struck me through my heart. I wanted to speak up, ' _I'm here, I'm okay, everything's fine,_ ' but my voice wouldn't work. My eyes wouldn't open.

"Maybe she's just taking her time." My father spoke up again. It was odd to hear emotion in his words, unless he was talking about something science-y, he was usually very monotonous. That hit me hard as well. ' _Please, I'm fine, I'm awake, I promise, I'm here!_ '

I tried to force my eyes open, begging myself to pull through, begging my lids to flutter, begging my mouth to speak something, anything. I willed myself into wakefulness, I would will myself into telling my family I'm okay.

"Come on, Kara…" I heard Lydia say softly, almost so quietly that I nearly missed it altogether.

' _I'm fine!_ ' Please, please, please!

"She'll be fine." Allison said, though I could almost swear she was talking to herself rather than anyone else.

' _Allison! Lydia! Can't you see? Can't you tell that I'm alright? Please!_ ' And suddenly, the most miraculous thing happened, and Lydia's voice cut through the growing silence.

"Her hand just moved." The air was still, tense, I could feel it from my incapacitated state. I wasn't quite aiming for my hand but it'd have to do. "Kara? Can you hear me?"

I concentrated, holding my breath, or at least that's what it felt like. I heard an incessant beeping from beside me, slowly getting more erratic.

"Her hand moved again," Allison announced. I couldn't feel it, though I could feel a growing warmth stemming from my fingertips.

"Is she awake? Do you think she's okay?" My mom questioned, approaching slowly, as if she was afraid to hear the answer.

"We should call the nurse." My father announced firmly. I heard his fancy Italian shoes hitting the tiled floor, somewhere away from me, followed by a click of a door opening then shutting.

"Kara?" Allison and Lydia kept repeating beside me, I wanted to answer, to open my eyes but I couldn't. The beeping penetrated my thoughts, and I wished it would shut up, but it only seemed to get faster, louder, more annoying with every wish.

"Kara?" A new voice came into the room, and I felt new hands touching my face. They were warm, gentle, soft, small. I remembered this voice, but I wasn't sure where from. It was kind, caring, concerned. Was she the nurse my father called? "Kara, I need you to relax, can you hear me? I need you to relax. Everything is okay. Deep breaths. Your parents and friends are here to make sure you feel safe, you're safe here."

Her voice filled me with a certain warmth, one I couldn't quite describe. It was like honey and hot tea on a harsh winter night. It was a mother's embrace when you had a fever, It was relaxing and comforting. The beeping stated to slow, it quietened down, and stopped piercing my ears. I felt her hands stroke the side of my head, like my mom did when I was sick. Was I sick?

"Good, see? Isn't that more comfortable?" She was right, my head was hurting slightly less and my chest felt at ease, like I had been holding my breath for hours, except I hadn't noticed it was painful to begin with. "Do you think you can open your eyes for me, Kara?"

"No," I groaned to myself, though it sounded much more verbal. Did I finally speak? "I can't, I tried,"

"Yes you can, Kara, look at me." Her voice was more firm now, She responded, which must've meant I actually spoke. My internal queries were satiated, but that wasn't nearly as rewarding as I thought it would be. I felt my hands moving, balling into fists, my toes wiggled, my muscles tensing and relaxing, the steady beat of my heart and flow of my breath.

"What happened?" I grumbled out, my eyes fluttering open and greeting the sight of the frizzy haired nurse I remembered seeing before…before…when was that again?

"You were in a car accident, do you remember?" My mother spoke. I turned my head slightly to look at her, which required more concentration and determination.

"No," I mumbled, looking between faces. The nurse stood back, seemingly satisfied. My parents stood beside one another at the foot of the bed, furrowed brows and wide eyes, and Allison and Lydia stood on my left, with worried yet relieved expressions. Lydia. Lydia was dressed normal. Lydia normal, not regular people normal. She was okay? "Lydia…"

"Yeah? Do you need something? Because I'm totally already shouting a shopping spree." That was so Lydia, I loved it.

"No, I mean, you're okay…" My vision blurred and dropped every now and then, everything looked kind of fuzzy at the moment, except the wild images floating around in my head. I tied to piece things together, I knew something, what was it? It was important…

"I was released a few days ago, you had the accident the day before I got out." Lydia informed.

"How do you feel?" My mother pressed.

"Everything's a little fuzzy…and empty…"

"That's completely normal, you've got a concussion, and it was a pretty bad accident." The nurse spoke, picking up a chart and skimming it over. "You have a broken ankle, a bruised rib, bruises pretty much everywhere else, most significantly on your legs, and a few cuts but none particularly bad. Considering the state of your car and the seriousness of your accident, you should count yourself pretty lucky, miss Moore." She smiled sadly. One of those smiles where they were happy you were okay but upset that you were hurt in the first place.

"Oh…" My eyes cleared up again, and my head starting formulating pictures, there was something on the road, I remember…but something struck me. Someone was missing. "Where's Isaac?"

The mood shifted, the room suddenly still, silence filled with tension, and everyone seemed to be swapping these looks. Why?

"He's not here." My father answered, looking straight at me while everyone else seemed to divert their eyes.

"Where is he?" A bubbling pit started forming in my stomach, before something else seemed to strike my mind.

Isaac, crying, pleading, as his father took him away from me, his hand outstretched for me to reach him but I never could. Was that a dream?

No.

Something else…

I watched from the open window, as his father struck him, pulling him by the hair into some unknown corner of the house. Isaac's creams filled my ears, his pleas echoing in my head. Isaac needed me. That was why I was driving!

"Where's Isaac? I need to see Isaac! Tell me where he is!" My body screamed at me as I pushed myself up, my stomach lurching at the ferocity of my voice, the beeping started becoming more erratic, signifying the rate at which my heart thumped in my chest, my head felt like it was caving in and exploding at the same time, but that didn't matter, not when Isaac was in trouble.

"He's gone!" My father shouted. "And if you see him, you're to tell someone immediately!"

"Shaun, don't!" My mother spoke.

"I need to know if he's okay!"

"You can talk to the Sheriff then!" I froze, watching as my father huffed, before turning on his heel and waltzing out of the room in an attempt to disguise his bubbling fury.

I felt my blood run cold, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, goosebumps rose on my arms, my body tensed and my muscles cried as it did.

"Please…" I needed to know he was okay, "please…"

"Honey," mom sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes flickering between the nurse and my two friends, who all stood awkwardly in the room awaiting the explanation, and my reaction. "About two nights after your accident, Isaac's father was found murdered in his car. The Police brought in Jackson Whittemore, was that his name, Lydia?" A quick nod followed. "Yes, well, they brought in Jackson as part of their investigation, and he told them that Lahey was…he was hurting Isaac…"

"I'm sorry?" I noticed the nurse out of the corner of my eye keeping watch on my vitals, my heart rate rising as I listened to the recounting.

"Lahey was-"

"Jackson _knew_?" My mouth dropped, as did the others in the room.

"Honey, did you know?"

"That's why I was driving! I want to drop something…homework, notes, a book, or something, I can't remember, I went to Isaac's to give him it and, 'n', I saw Isaac and his f-father, he was, he was hurting him! My phone wasn't working, or I, or I left it at home, I-I don't know, but I knew I had to do something, so I was driving to the police station!" I hadn't realised I was nearly sobbing as I spoke, the desperate images of Isaac flooding my eyes. "B-but this whole time, _this whole time_ , Jackson knew and, and, he said _nothing_?"

"Hey, I know it's a really horrible thing what he did, but I think maybe you should take a deep breath and try to calm down a little," Allison spoke, but I wouldn't have any of it. I didn't care if Jackson was Lydia's ex-boyfriend, if he was truly a good person at heart, if they harboured a soft spot for him.

"Isaac was slowly dying to his own father, and Jackson let it happen," I said quietly, but with more spite and hate in every word than I'd ever felt or spoken in my entire life, "so as far as I'm concerned, it's Jackson's fault, too."

The room was stiff and seething, tense and awkward, but I could care less. The most beautiful person in the world was brutalised, and when you have the power to stop something like that, you use it. If you have the ability to make the world a better place, you do exactly that. If you ignore an evil such as that, you're no better than that evil. Jackson was, as far as I was concerned, the worst a person could be.

"In, uh, in any case," mom continued, "Jackson told the Sheriff that Isaac and his father had a falling out that night, an argument if you will, so they put Isaac in a holding cell overnight, only there was this big incident and Isaac got out. He's a fugitive, I'm so sorry, sweetie."

"He didn't do it."

"Honey-"

"It wasn't him." Isaac would never, not in a million years.

"We're going to go," Allison spoke after about five minutes of deathly silence. No one tried to deny my belief, and in that time, the nurse had left, letting me know that if I needed her, she'd come around, before informing me her name was Melissa. Apparently she's Scott McCall's mom. "If you need anything, let us know."

They both hugged me, giving me their best wishes, while mom remained at the foot of the bed.

We didn't speak for minutes, and dad hadn't returned. It didn't matter much, visiting hours were almost over as it was.

"For what it's worth, I believe you." She kissed my forehead, patting my cheek softly before exiting the room with a heartfelt, "I love you."

If I thought I could relax, I was wrong. Dead wrong.

Melissa returned with a man dressed in a police uniform, most specifically, the Sheriff himself.

"Hi there, Kara," he smiled, looking tired and sad. I felt pity for him, this was a crazy town and everything happened at once, so he must have had his hands full. "Sorry to bother you while you're trying to relax, but Melissa here informed you woke up a short while ago. I'm Sheriff Stilinski."

"It's okay." I mumbled. I didn't really want to talk to him, but at the same time, he just needed to do his job, much like I had. Melissa excused herself from the room with a quick smile and small wave.

"I'll try to keep this short." I nodded, listening to him take out a pen and notepad, readying to scribble notations. "It's my understanding you're involved with Isaac Lahey, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Is it a close relationship?"

"Yes."

"Has he mentioned much about his family life?"

"Not really."

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"…yes."

"Such as?" I didn't want to say, but I couldn't hide it. I couldn't further incriminate my boyfriend, especially when he was innocent. However, if I neglected to tell the truth, it could make things worse than they needed to be.

"…he often had bruises and cuts on his bodies, and he has some large scars." I stared at the white blankets covering my legs, how they moved when I fidgeted uncomfortably. "He told me they were from bullies who punched and kicked him around unless he gave them money. I wanted to report them, but he wouldn't let me, said he'd handle it. I trusted him, but I knew that he wasn't telling the whole truth at the very least."

"Did you find out what was really going on?" I nodded, my eyes beginning to sting with tears as I recalled the memories for what felt like the millionth time that day. I didn't think it was physically possible for me to think about it and not cry.

"The day of my accident. My phone wasn't working so I went to report it to you directly."

"That was very brave of you, I'm sorry that things didn't work out better than this though." He seemed genuinely sorry for what had happened, and I believed him, but I felt guilty for it, like I was betraying Isaac as I watched this man feel saddened by the tragedy around him. "If it's worth anything, you were doing the right thing."

"Unlike some, I care about what happens to others."

"You…wouldn't happen to be talking about Jackson, would you?" The Sheriff sighed, taking my refusal to answer as an affirmative. "There are some people in this world who…only want the best for themselves. Anyone else is an obstacle."

"He's a dick." A huff of laughter and a shake of the head, and I took it that he agreed. He scribbled some more things down, mouthing the words in little mumbled whispers almost incomprehensibly. "It wasn't him, he'd never do that."

"Kara, I want to believe that and trust me, I wouldn't exactly blame him if he did do it, but the evidence and motive align, not to mention, he escaped a holding cell. Why would an innocent man run?"

"Because running is easier than facing the consequences, whether you deserve them or not." I was met with a sigh of exhaustion. "Take it from the person who knows him best, Isaac is one of the kindest people I've ever met, he wouldn't ruin everything he has after all this time. He ran because he was sacred, and I don't know what happened in that holding cell or how he got out, but what I am sure of is that you put a teenager who is claustrophobic in a cell with a tiny window if not, no window. He was panicking."

I was met with brief silence before he questioned, "how do you know he's claustrophobic?"

"For one thing, he always sits next to the window in class, and his bed is practically under the window. He likes his air, and space. He avoids the crowded areas during lunch, we always take the stairs instead of the elevator, and he looks around the room every time he enters a new surrounding. When I researched it, I realised he was searching for the exits."

"I see."

"No wonder he ran." He made a quick note in his pad, seeming relatively satisfied with my response.

"Well, uh, if you see him, let someone know. Thank you for your help, Kara. Sorry to have bothered you." He smiled, turning and opening the door, speaking out before he left, "Get well soon."

"Thanks." I whispered quietly to myself, knowing that Sheriff Stilinski was well out of earshot. At least I knew where Stiles got his social skills from.

* * *

You know that feeling where you're half asleep, and half awake? That's how I feel. I feel like I'm floating, not in my own body but I can't see anything. I feel as though there's no bed beneath me, nor any ground under my feet. My mind feels separate from the rest of me, and it's rather disorienting. Needless to say, I certainly wasn't expecting to feel warmth in my mind's expanse of space.

A warmth that radiated more than just heat, but light throughout the darkness, meaning throughout nothingness, elatedness of the emotional variety. I felt myself coming back down to Earth, the floating sensation overtaken by the grounding of my back reconnecting with the not entirely comfortable hospital bed.

"Kara," a voice whispered in my ear, soft yet unwavering. It sent shivers down my spine, but they were welcomed shivers. I let my eyes flicker open, blinking at the darkness until my eyes began to adjust. "Hey there, beautiful."

I turned my head toward the sound, my vision searching to identify the unknown. Warmth spread across my body, though this time, I could tell it began from my cheek.

"Hi…" I rasped out, beginning to see features of my company. Curly blondish hair, impeccably straight nose, chiseled jawline, red lips, big blue eyes staring at me with a mixture of emotions. I knew that face, I saw it every time I closed my eyes, every time I fell asleep, every time I was left alone to my own thoughts, I saw that face loving me, I saw it crying, I saw it bleeding, I saw it screaming for my help. But here, it loved me, it looked at me with so much love, it cared for me, it worried for me. I knew this face all to well. "Isaac?"

"Looks like there's no memory loss." I heard the chuckle in his soft voice. "How're you holding up? I heard what happened, and, well, I'm sorry you had to see that…"

"I'm…I'm fine, but, you, you're…" I hesitated, not really sure of what I should say. The last time I saw him, he was being beaten by his own father, his supposed caretaker. Instead, I settled with the one thing I wanted to know the answer to: "Are you okay?"

He smiled, his fingers still rubbing my cheek gently, "I'm fine, mostly. It's a little scary, to be honest, like, it's not how I pictured my life but I'm hiding out with a…friend…kind of."

"That's good then, as long as you're sure no one will find you." He raised his eyebrows, and his mouth dropped open slightly. "I know you didn't do it, Isaac. I don't want them even holding you for something that wasn't your fault."

"I don't care if they think I did it, as long as you know I didn't." His hand started playing with my hair. We watched silently as some doctors passed by the room, just in case they thought to come inside. "I should probably get going…"

Neither of us wanted him to leave. After days apart, even if I was unconscious for the majority of it, being together for mere minutes was almost more torturous.

"I don't want you to." I brought a hand up to greet his soft skin, watching as his head dipped into my palm. I glided it up behind his neck and pulled him in to me, hoping he would get the picture. He did, joining our lips in soft yet firm reconciliation. Heat pooled throughout my body as I pulled him closer, relishing in his body against mine on the bed. My hand traversed his body for what felt like the first time in forever.

He felt different, stronger almost, more confident perhaps. I chalked it up to the absence of his father.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was I had him back again, loving the way his slow hands travelled along every sliver of skin possible, rubbing my softly through the blankets, knotting in my hair.

"I have to go…" He whispered regretfully. I felt tears flooding my eyes, though instead of it being because I was afraid for Isaac's wellbeing, it was because I knew I had to let him leave. "You're getting out tomorrow, so I'll stop by your room every night to see you, I promise, and everything will be okay soon."

I nodded, trying to ignore the pain ripping through my heart as his warmth left my side. He kissed me again before walking towards the door.

"Wait," I whispered, not expecting him to stop and listen. He turned his head, eyes looking into mine inquisitively. "I-I, um, Isaac, I love you."

His signature lopsided grin appeared on his face as he took in my words, realising that was the first time I had spoken them to him.

"I love you, too, Kara." He slipped out of the room as silent as a mouse, leaving me to savour the last words he left me with. I felt my heart skipping beats, near heard it on the monitor, and with every fibre in my being, I grinned at the door, knowing I'd never forget this moment for as long as I lived.

I loved Isaac Lahey, and more importantly, he actually loved me, too.

* * *

 _Thank you to everyone who read and followed, reviewed, and favourited_ _this story, and especially t_ _hanks to amy1997, PeanutCookiesXD, and swanqueen4 for the follows, it was very much appreciated._

 _Burnthebook, thank you! I hope you love the final just as much!_

 _This was the final chapter! I might make a sequel, probably just as short, or I might write something else entirely. I'm currently writing up a Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier fit, but I'm not sure if it'll ever get to posting stage. I also have an Overwatch one shot that I'll probably get around to posting soon._

 _Hope you all enjoyed this little story of mine, it's kind of really satisfying to finish something, so if you want anything more, please let me know! Love you all!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf._


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